Will Passed On
by Ai Tennshi
Summary: A collection of seven One Piece short stories. 1: Gol D. Roger. 2: Post Straw Hat Alabasta. 3: White Hunter Smoker and Black Cage Hina. 4: Makino. 5: Ace and Black Beard. 6: Post Straw Hat Skypeia. 7: Post Enies Lobby Straw Hats.
1. Will Passed On

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any places, characters or quotes used in Oda Eiichiro's 'One Piece' 1 though 34 and 40 (which are what I've read. I haven't read any others, so if something I say overlaps with something in one of them, sorry—I didn't know). I do, however, own characters not used in the original (Yasopp's father (to whom I gave no name), Sakku (Gol D. Roger's first mate), Lilabet, etc.), the plots, and the translations of the quotes.

**Will Passed On** _(A Collection of Seven One Piece Short Stories)_

_My treasure? You can have it if you want it…_

_Seek it, if you will. I left everything of this world there._

–Pirate King Gol D. Roger

**Story 1 : Will Passed On**

_I am the Pirate King. My name is Gol D. Roger. Once upon a time, I was a great pirate—the best of them all. People feared me and called me the Pirate King in their awe and terror. I had all the wealth, power, and fame of this world. When I was executed, my last words were enough to stir the entire world and begin the Age of Pirates. Never was there a man such as me, and all know it. I went further along the Grand Line—the most dangerous of all the seas—than anyone has ever done. I grinned widely—and sincerely—at my death. No one can predict me, nor can they catch me._

_But I was executed, you say. "If no one could catch you," you ask, "how in the world were you executed? Did you just go and relinquish your freedom of your own will?" No. I love my freedom. I would be a fool to trade it in. Those who know me call me a fool, but they know better than anyone that I am not that much of one. There is but a single thing that I value more than my freedom._

"_So then what _did_ happen?" you ask. You want to know? Ha. Why should I tell you? It would be no more than a story to you. I doubt you'd even listen whole-heartedly. But I'll tell you. Listen if you like. Just pretend you're listening while you think of other things more important to you if it suits you. Even lounge back and don't even pretend to listen at all if that's what you want to do. I don't care. I'm not doing this for you. I think _I'd_ like to recount those days. I rarely look back. But just this once, I think I will._

The ship had been tossing in the windy sea for only five minutes in sight of the island through the thick fog when it lowered its anchor. This ship had been here only once before, but it had taken them two hours then. This time, however, they knew that the easiest and only way to reach the island, and did not go this way and that as they had the first time.

This island they called Raftel, and no ship but theirs had ever reached it. The tall, imposing cliffs had compelled them to attempt to go around it the first time, in search of a place where they could dock. The captain, however, had ordered them to turn back at the last moment, thereby saving their lives. They had later discovered that the ocean currents were extremely strong this close to the Red Line, and headed at a terrifying speed toward the tall mountain that shattered any ship so unfortunate as to attempt to go around the island. However, this ship's captain, Gol D. Roger, was a very intelligent man, and the possibility had struck him at that last moment before they tried to go around the island. His men trusted him completely, and had followed his order immediately and without question. This had saved them all. Once they had come very close to the island, they had discovered that there was a shallow area that faced a small beach before the cliff. It had been invisible through the fog until they were almost upon it. It could be that one or two other ships had come in sight of Raftel but, without knowledge of the ocean current or of this place, had attempted to go around the island and been carried away by the current to be smashed against the cliff of Red Line that was the back of Rivers Mountain.

Logically, such a strong current, faster than the most terrifying rapids of any body of water, should not have been in existence in such an area where there was nothing causing it. But this was Grand Line, and in Grand Line, all logic in navigation was as useful to a ship out at sea as the abundant salt water.

While Roger was intelligent, he was as whimsical as the Grand Line. Perhaps that was why they had managed to make it so far—Roger probably understood the whims of the Grand Line better than anyone ever had.

After reaching Raftel that first time, the ship had remained there for about a month, rejoicing. Roger had also wanted to see if the Logue would point anywhere else. But the Logue continued to point at Raftel, and after a while, they had decided to go back some way down the Grand Line, flaunting the fact that they had made it so far. They had even intended to go back all the way, where they could reunite with Laboon, a companion who had been unable to follow them into the Grand Line.

Then Roger had been wounded. Oh, he had been wounded several times before, but this one was severe. A long gash ran from his shoulder straight down as far as his mid-thigh. He had slept for the first few days, hardly ever waking. During those days, when he was awake, his eyes remained open as he stared blankly at the ceiling, but he did not move or speak. The doctor could not make him eat, and they could only force liquid down his throat to ensure that he would live. On the third day, however, a steel-hard resolution filled his blank eyes as he stared at the ceiling during one of his brief waking periods. The resolution remained there for a few seconds, and then vanished. Then Roger had turned his head, looked at the doctor and demanded food.

After that, his recovery had been a matter of much less worry to his comrades. They had sighed in relief at first, for they had believed that he would not want to recover. Then they began to rejoice—their captain was back. But the changes slowly began to show themselves after that. Even after a week, when he was allowed out of bed, their captain's walk was slower, the swing of his sword weaker, and his reflexes slower. These were such subtle differences that they were almost imperceptible, but what alerted Roger's comrades most were his eyes. At times, a steel-hard resolution would fill those usually sparkling—whether ominously or happily—orbs. They began to realize what he intended to do, and finally one day, one man suggested that they head for Raftel once more. There was an underlying tone that Raftel was to be their _final_ destination, but none really minded. They had traveled the seas for decades, and most were no longer as nimble as they had once been.

So they had taken the Logue Pose out for the first time in five months, and begun to follow it back to Raftel. It had taken them only five weeks to get past the last island before Raftel. However, that could have been because they did not stop at any island except to get more supplies when they needed it.

So now they were at Raftel once more, rowing out towards shore. The cloud that hung over their captain was faint, but it still spread to the rest of the crew. The usually carefree comrades were silent, whether they wore a smile or a frown.

Once they reached shore, they remained silent as they dragged the rowboats to shore and unloaded the supplies. They then made their way down the beach around the cliffs to the other side of the island, where there was a path up to one of the most blissful tree grove, with all sorts of fruits and a small stream making its way through the trees. While there were countless dangers in reaching Raftel, the men had found, Raftel itself was Paradise. Reaching their destination, they set up camp. Being in that tree grove, however, challenged their silence with its beauty. Soon the men were laughing and joking as usual, and bringing out the wine. Not long after, a few figures appeared between the trees.

"Lilabet!" shouted one of the men among the pirates, and he rushed to a woman wearing a simple wrapped garment of animal skin. Behind her were men and women, all garbed similarly—these were the inhabitants of Raftel. Then the man looked down in surprise at Lilabet's stomach, which was rather rounded. Lilabet smiled and nodded.

If any tension had been left, that swept it all away. The man picked up Lilabet and swung her around, kissing her and laughing. Behind him, the other pirates were laughing and rejoicing as well. Lilabet's people moved forward and joined them, as well.

Lilabet and the pirate that held her were not married in the legal sense, but what did pirates care for legality? In Lilabet's culture, a couple had only to ask the chief's permission to be bound, so that was what they had done. In truth, the pirate had had one wife before, but she had died giving birth to their son, Yasopp. So when they had reached Raftel and the pirate had fallen in love with Lilabet on first sight, Yasopp, who had never known a mother, had been delighted as well. In the month that they had spent on Raftel the first time they were there, Lilabet and Yasopp had come to consider themselves a mother and son.

This bond between Lilabet, Yasopp and his father had expanded to the two groups—Roger's pirates and Lilabet's people—and they now considered one another their own kin. And now they were rejoicing both their own reunion and Lilabet's pregnancy, for one's joy was all of theirs, just as one's pain was all their pain to them.

They did not notice when Roger slipped away with a sack and returned shortly after without it before he joined the gay banquet.

Shortly into their festivities, Roger stepped up onto a large rock before them and called out to his pirates and the natives. He was smiling widely as he spoke.

"My pirates!" he called to his pirates. "We have traveled all four of the lesser seas together, and come further in the fifth and most dangerous of seas than any before us!" Then he addressed the natives. "My kin! Our time together has not been long, but I could not hold you more dear than I do!" He had all's instant attention. Now his smile faded. "You may notice that our number is much less than it was on our last visit to Raftel. Five weeks ago, we met the Marines in a great battle." His comrades' faces darkened at his words, and the gayness and delight disappeared from their eyes to be replaced by the same resolution that had lain in their captain's eyes so often as of late. Lilabet's people's faces darkened as well, and they listened with steadfast attentiveness, for they respected and loved Roger just as much as the pirates did. "They took us by surprise, but we all fought well. However, they knew that we had grown attached to the people of the village. The Marines are supposed to protect the people. But perhaps that doesn't matter to them as much as defeating us pirates." Some pirates were clenching their teeth and others their fists, and the menace in the air was tangible. Even the atmosphere around the natives darkened. They were beginning to see what had happened to those that they had considered their own kin. The captain's words were soft, and his eyes dark. "One Marine dragged our dear, beloved friends of the village to a ledge overlooking our battle. The filth killed them one at a time, still gagged and bound, every time one of us moved—even if it was an involuntary twitch. Meanwhile, they bound and gagged those of us who were in the back, and by the time we noticed, it was too late—they had half of us, and they had been dragged up onto the ledge. And still, the Marine continued to kill them one by one before our very eyes. We could not look away, for that would be a movement that would result in the death of even more. We all saw the hopelessness of the situation—they would kill our friends one by one until they had successfully bound us all, and then we would all be executed anyway. So I did something that, no doubt, angered many who were there.

"I ran around to the top of the ledge, intending to save as many as I could. They would all die if we did nothing, I figured, and I thought I could run fast enough to save at least some. But by the time I reached that point, most were dead. There were only two left up there: my first mate and my son. I tried to get them both, but someone shot Sakku. So I could only grab my son and run. They tried to get me, but managed to inflict no more than a wound." Two teenage boys at the back of the crowd were now shaking, one trying to the best of his ability to stop the tears that streamed down his cheeks.

"My kin, they killed half of our beloved comrades and all the village—our dear friends. I have had my time. I have traveled all the seas and seen a great variety of places. I have researched more in history and medicine than any other single man. I have found the All Blue, which is said to be a myth. I have come further along the Grand Line with you than any other ship has managed. I have tamed the world's most dangerous sword. I have had my time. Now, I will go to East Blue, to Logue Town, where our comrades' killer resides. Perhaps this is fate's idea of irony," he added with a small wry smile, "to have my greatest enemy reside in my birthplace. I do not ask you to come with me. If you so wish, you may stay in this paradise, and I swear most sincerely that it will not be held against you—by myself or any other. But I will go. And I, and whoever comes with me, are sure to never come back."

A long silence followed Roger's words. Then, all at once, a roar erupted from the people. Roger grinned down at them as they pounded mugs or fists on the ground, thrust their fists into the air, and roared their absolute approval. And his comrades grinned back up at him—they would all be coming. _But,_ he reminded himself, _some will stay. _The chief of the natives, for example, was not permitted to fight. The native children were sure to stay as well, as would Lilabet.

"Then we set out on our final quest tomorrow. Tonight, we feast!" Roger threw up his hands and roared his words. His men let out another roaring cheer, and then the feast resumed ten times more enthusiastic than what it had been before. Roger leapt down from the rock and drank with his men. But he did not forget to turn to one man.

"Stay," Roger told him. "Don't leave Lilabet. If Yasopp comes, I'll ensure that he does not go into battle with us—I don't intend to let my son fight this battle, either." The pirate hesitated, looking doubtfully at his captain. But then Lilabet came up beside him, and Roger could see the will to fight leave him as he looked adoringly at his pregnant wife.

"Thank you," Lilabet said with a smile, and her husband echoed her words. Roger only smiled in reply.

VVVVVVVVVV

It was three weeks and many shortcuts later that the ship came in sight of Logue Town in East Blue. When the woman in the observation deck shouted that Logue Town was in sight, tension on the ship vanished. There were not as many crewmembers as their used to be, even with a number of natives of Raftel with them, and sailing in their large ship through tricky narrow waterways of Red Line after rowing frantically through one of the Calm Belts had been extremely difficult with only half the number that they were accustomed to having. This had only increased their sense of vengeance. Perhaps they would not make it out of Logue Town alive, but they would bring down as many Marines with them as they could. And now that they were in sight of this town, they were clapping one another on the back, joking and teasing.

When they docked on shore, they were still laughing and grinning. No one who saw them would have guessed what they were about to do. As the crewmembers began leaving the ship, however, Roger put his hands on the shoulders of the only two teenagers on the ship.

"Listen, you two," he told the two. His eyes sparkled mischievously as they always did, but his tone was serious. "I don't want you to come into battle with us."

"But-" one with messy black hair began to protest.

"No, Yasopp," Roger said firmly. "The rest of us have traveled the seas for decades. Neither of you has lived for more than one. Here's what I want you to do. I want you to get into the two larger lifeboats—the sailboats—and go to some other island. Live there a while. We've stopped in enough villages—you know how to act like a villager. So go to a village and live. If you still want to be a pirate after a few years—if the sea still calls to you after a few years, then return to the sea. But not before." The two boys stared at their captain. "And one more thing," Roger added. "I don't want you staying in the same village—or even on the same island. Go your separate ways. If you're fortunate, you'll meet again in the future." He grinned at the boys. "The Marines might know that the two of you exist, but they're pretty sure to underestimate both of you. Still, if they look for you, I don't want you to let yourselves be found unless you become a pirate again. We're going to make things more difficult for those Marines." The boys grinned up at their captain despite their disappointment.

"We'll do it, Da," said the other boy.

"We won't fail you," added Yasopp.

"Then I'll leave you to your task, Yasopp. And you, my son." Roger grinned at them once more, and then was striding rapidly off the ship. The boys instantly went to the task of getting the two sailboats off the deck and into the water.

Roger and his crew, meanwhile, headed for the Marine complex. They were well known, so they could not get in past the guards through deception. And their grudge was against the Marine soldiers who had killed their friends and comrades—not the others. So upon reaching the gate, Roger swiftly hit one guard over the head with his sword hilt before the man could cry out. A black-haired woman did the same with the other, using the ferrule of her spear—she was a native of Raftel, and their main weapons were spears and bows. Then they all slipped into the building.

It did not take long to reach their destination. Roger, somehow, knew where they would be, and led his comrades in a straight line to a door. He then turned to his comrades.

"This is where I leave you. Your fight is past these doors—this is the soldiers' dining room." There was a brief silence, and then a man spoke.

"We all have a grudge against the man who slit everyone's throats. I'll go with you." The man's eyes were hard, but Roger shook his head.

"No." Roger's tone left no room for argument. "They followed me, and I am their captain. We won't make this a soiled fight. I'll defeat their killer one-on-one." The man looked like he would protest for a moment, and then he grinned.

"I couldn't have asked for a better captain."

"And I couldn't have asked for better comrades," Roger replied with a smile. His comrades—pirates and people of Raftel alike—grinned at him, and then raised their weapons with a unified cheer. "And now we go!" Roger roared above their cheers, and their answered with a single great roar. And then they turned and broke through the doors. Roger turned and ran down the hallway. He knew which door, again, and threw it open.

A surprised Marine looked up from a desk where he had been pouring over papers. He was rather ordinary looking, but his lack of a uniform gave away his high status. His look of surprise quickly changed to a snarl when he saw Roger.

"So. Now you and your filthy scum decided to throw away your lives in a badly thought out attempt at revenge, did you?"

"Filthy scum?" scoffed Roger. His eyes twinkled or sparkled with mischief most of the time. They had filled with resolution when his comrades had been killed. They blazed when he fought enemies. Right now, one could say that his eyes were blazing. But they were not the ordinary sort of blazing eyes that he wore when fighting an enemy. This blaze came from deep within, and was filled with unmoving resolution as well. His voice, however, was calm. "I really think you're mistaking my comrades for yourself. You're the one most worthy of that name in the five seas, you know."

"Oh really?" asked the general idly. He held no weapon, but did not appear concerned. "You have only yourself to blame for those deaths, you know. That's what comes from getting attached to your underlings."

"Underlings?" asked Roger mildly. He knew that the Marine was trying to bait him, but he was too old and wise to fall for it. "No wonder you don't get anywhere in life. A man who takes the people working for him as mere underlings doesn't earn half as much loyalty as one who considers them his friends. Of course, I doubt that you understand what it means to have a friend."

"I see," said the general. He appeared to have lost interest, and was now back to his papers. "Did you just come here to waste my time rambling?" Roger's eyes narrowed.

"Then we'll get straight to what I came for." And then Roger charged at the general, swiftly unsheathing his sword. His sword swung down upon the general, who lifted a hand to meet it. The sword hit the general's hand and sparks flew.

"Is that all you can do?" asked the general with a smirk. "I'd heard that you can cut anything with that sword of yours, but I suppose that you're too emotional at the moment to display that power of yours—if, of course, it isn't just a bluff."

Roger's eyes narrowed, and though a thousand replies came to mind—"a diamond is about as hard as you can get", "do you actually think I've had the opportunity to seek out diamonds, rare as they are, just to see if I could cut them?"—but he said nothing and swung his sword down once more.

Roger and the general exchanged clash after clash. Soon the general was openly fighting back, however, and Roger could do nothing but shield attacks. Even as he did, he noticed that his sword was chipping with each blow that he received, and knew that he had to finish it soon while he still had the chance. Suddenly, the general's eyebrows rose.

"Why, this isn't your legendary sword. What, did you break it?" The general's voice was taunting, but Roger was wise enough to know not to listen. One of the general's hands, however, got past his sword, and a searing pain shot through his side.

Roger knew that this fight should not have been a hard one—this general was not even a headquarters general. He knew that, despite his best efforts to remain calm as he fought, he was upset. While he had a good right to be angry, Roger needed to remain calm when cutting something hard. It was through the breath of the objects that he could cut them, and he could only hear their breath in tranquility. So he calmed his mind and heart as he continued to block the general's hand. Soon it was only his body that was moving, and his mind was calm

And then he heard it. The breath of the general's diamond-body.

So Roger sliced through it.

Blood spurted from the long wound through the general's chest. Roger looked down at the dead man emotionlessly.

"I hope you expected that, because if you didn't, you're a fool," Roger said quietly. "But you were a fool anyway, to kill so many."

Someone's hand had clasped his arm a split second after he cut down the general, but Roger paid it no heed. By the time he finished talking to the corpse, his sword had been ripped by three men from his iron grip, and he had felt four pairs of hands drag his arms around together against his resistance where someone else handcuffed him. He instantly felt himself go limp, and knew that all hope of escape was lost. Since he used a sword, it was not common knowledge that the Pirate King had Devil Fruit powers, but they had put handcuffs with _kairoseki_ on him, which meant that the Marines now knew.

Roger looked around at the men who were standing around, eyeing him wearily.

"So are you planning on standing there staring," Roger asked casually, surprising the Marines, "or are you going to escort me to the execution platform, or am I expected to walk there alone?"

And so it was that the Pirate King Gol D. Roger met and accepted his end.

_In a few more years, another ship, the second to ever do so, will reach the island Raftel. Those on that ship will be small in number, but each exceptionally strong. A captain, a swordsman, a navigator, a marksman, a cook, a doctor and an archaeologist. They will be a rather light-hearted crew, much like ours. They will be the type to make friends with the civilians they meet along the way, just as we did. And they will value each other beyond anything else. This will be the ideal ship to become the ship of the next Pirate King._

_So maybe Monkey D. Luffy's a little simple-minded. So what? People who think that the knowledgeable, logical kind of intelligence is important are idiots. It's the heart, the love, the determination, the loyalty, the willingness to give up anything for the sake of one's friends that matters, and my grandson and his crew has more of that than anyone else wandering the sea. Idiots say that my grandson and I are opposites. When I fight, I am cool and calm, and on ordinary days, I am mischievous simply for my own amusement. Luffy is often angry when he fights, and on ordinary days, he is no more than a ball of energy that bursts with fun and laughter. Where I had all sorts of knowledge and could have survived on my own, Luffy needs his comrades to survive, and he knows it. Where I have logic that I simply choose to ignore on a regular basis, Luffy never _had _any logic to begin with. But we both treasure our comrades and friends beyond all measure, regardless of whether or not we need them. On Raftel, he and his crew will find things that they will treasure beyond all else—my treasure. That's what makes them ideal for the position that they will fill._

_I was a man unlike any other. My comrades and I died to avenge the ruthless murder of half our members. Never did I regret a single action—from beginning to end, there was one path for me to follow, and I followed it. I died with a grin. I was the only to ever lead a ship to Raftel. On Raftel, I left my treasure—the True History gathered along my travels; records of my research in medicine; the large inlet behind Raftel that is shielded from the monstrous currents, known to some of my men as the All Blue (although I daresay I couldn't possibly have taken that anywhere, even if I'd decided to try); a number of comrades, both pirates and natives of Raftel; my logbooks, in which every voyage I made through each of the five seas as well as the White Ocean and the White-White Ocean is recorded; my legendary sword, known as the Shodai Kitetsu—a cursed sword that no other ever managed to tame; and finally, my ship's pirate flag. My and my comrades' definition of 'treasure' differed from the ordinary man's—not gold and jewels, but dreams and friends. Some say we died a meaningless death. We lived our lives as we wished to the very end—not even death held us back. And with only a few words, I passed on my will to half the world at my death. Do you call that meaningless?_

_I was the greatest man ever to sail the seas. My name was Gol D. Roger. I was the Pirate King._

Author's Note: Gol D. Roger doesn't really make many appearances, but he was interesting to write about, based on what I do know. It seemed appropriate to open this with his story, since I'm basing this on a quote by him. I'm not too sure what to think of this… I used a few theories about Luffy and Roger (and even Usopp's lineage) in here, but I might use others in the other six. So, what do you think of this one? Do you think it's a good opening story?


	2. The Passage of Ages

_Feelings of regret are only natural… Unbearable feelings are natural as well. Our losses are great, and we have gained nothing. —But this is progress! Regardless of whom you fought, a battle occurred and has now ended!_

_No one can erase the past! …Stand atop this war! And live! Kingdom of Alabasta!_

–Nefertari Cobra, King of Alabasta

**Story 2 : The Passage of Ages**

Nefertari Cobra sat silently in his throne room. This man was the king of the kingdom Alabasta, and never was there a ruler as well loved by the people as he. Unlike many monarchs, he was not the type to see his subjects and only specified times. There was a specific range of time each day when he sat on his throne, listening to his people if they came to see him and chatting with Igaram, captain of his army, when no one was there. However, if one came outside of that time range, he would never turn the person away. There was one instance (subject to a great many jokes throughout the kingdom) when he had turned a man away: a merchant had come at two o'clock in the morning to ask if he could please borrow a pen—he only had one, which was out of ink, and none of his neighbors were answering their doors when he knocked, for some odd reason. Apparently, it had not occurred to the man that most of the kingdom was asleep.

At the moment, no one was there to speak with King Cobra, but instead of conversing with Igaram as he usually did at such times, he was intently reading a very old, thick book. It was one of the books of The Official History of Alabasta that was written in ten volumes. Every child of the royal family was required to study all ten of the thick volumes, and usually required to read them over once more a few years later.

Cobra had read all ten volumes five times. But this time, he was not reading them over again for requirements, or for pleasure. He was reading about a rebellion that had occurred five centuries ago, and its aftermath. King Horus, king during that rebellion, had managed to calm the people by giving in to their demands, and had worked so hard to please them after that that he had soon become a ruler very much loved by his subjects. Only two years or so after this, however, he had given up the crown in favor of his son, Prince Ihy. Ihy had ruled relatively well, but the people were discontent. Horus was still alive, they said, so why should Ihy be king? He was more strict that Horus, and did not relent to the wishes of his subjects as his father had. It had seemed at first as though such discontent would fade as time went by. The years had passed, Ihy married had a son, and Horus died. But the people's initial discontent had only increased as time went on, unnoticed by their monarch. Even King Ihy's captain had turned against him as time went by. When the uprising occurred, it was entirely unexpected on the part of the king. Ihy had been killed, and his wife took over as Queen Mother for their son, still a child at the time. The Queen Mother, originally a commoner, had known both the needs of the commoners and the needs of the country as a whole. This had enabled her to soon win over the people, and peace had returned to Alabasta.

After reading this over, he flipped to another part of the thick volume. He now read of Queen Nepthys. She had been a good queen, caring for her subjects deeply. She had been a strong monarch. Her problems had begun when she was required to marry to continue the royal line. Nepthys had married a commoner that she had believed had loved her. This commoner, however, had only been in love with her crown. After their marriage, he had ignored her for the most part, and took over the country's rule on his own. Despairing, Queen Nepthys had ended up having an affair with one of the major officials, and bore a son by him. The king realized this as the years went by, for the boy began to resemble his father more and more strongly as he grew. Furious, the king had slaughtered both the queen and the official, but reluctantly kept the son as the only heir to the throne.

King Cobra flipped to yet another part of the book. This part was the rule of Queen Nut and King Geb. Geb had been a prince when the two had first met, and Nut a slave girl. Over the years, the two grew close, and when he became king, the first thing that Geb had done was to abolish slavery, thereby granting Nut her freedom. The second thing had been to ask (or get on his knees and beg, as many accounts said) her to marry him, and she had readily agreed. The two had ruled kindly and justly, and while some were happy with their monarchs, many were not. Those who were discontent believed that it was an insult that they be ruled by a woman who was a former slave girl, let alone of foreign descent, and that had led to an uprising of the people. The monarchs had managed to convince the leaders of the discontented to hold a conference with them rather than start a battle, and they had reached an agreement that King Geb and Queen Nut would relinquish the throne in favor of their daughter Sekhmet with two advisors, both to be chosen by the rebels. However, Sekhmet had been young at the time, and was assassinated after only a few years. After that had come the rule of her sister, Nepthys.

Sighing, King Cobra flipped the pages of the book. There were so many that had ruled Alabasta, whether in this volume or the other nine… Queen Satis, the warrior queen with her peaceful husband King Khnum; the wise King Thoth and his just Queen Ma'at. Those said to be the greatest rulers of Alabasta were King Amun, called the King of Kings, and his wife Mut, called the Mother Queen. It had been the two of them together who had founded Alabasta. What made people respect them as much as they did, even centuries after their deaths, was the fact that they had never used a weapon. They had simply talked with people in each separate area of Alabasta, eventually gaining the entire island's loyalty. Thus they had unified the island and founded the kingdom of Alabasta.

Alabasta was a kingdom that had seen the passage of many ages. But King Cobra was now reading of past ages out of his fear for the next age. His age was ending, and he knew it. But now he was worrying about the next age: his daughter's age.

When Vivi had been younger, Cobra had never seen the need to worry about her time. Her determination and friendliness had won her a great many loyal friends among his subjects' children, and her love for her country and brightness had won over the affection and loyalty of all in the palace from Igaram, captain of the Royal army, to Pell, strongest warrior in the kingdom, to Terracotta, head of the palace's kitchen. Of course, in between those there were the soldiers, maids, guards and cooks that were drawn to the princess as well. So Cobra had never doubted that his daughter would do wonderfully when her age came along.

In fact, Vivi had even further proved her worthiness as queen a few years back when she had snuck out of the palace with Igaram to try and find the source of the trouble that had been spreading through Alabasta. She had returned safely, and struggled and prevailed against almost unbelievable odds to stop the rebellion that had been set up and save the kingdom—her people. Of course, there had been others involved: a group of pirates known as the Straw Hats. However, this was a fact unknown to all but the Marines and many in the palace of Alabasta.

Obviously, there was little to worry about for the age when she who was now Princess Vivi would be Queen Vivi. She had the complete love and devotion of her people, she was just and kind, and she had the love and respect of the Royal army and of all others employed in the palace.

So what had King Cobra to worry of? She was in an ideal position for one who would soon become the sole ruler of a kingdom.

But she would not be the sole ruler. She _could _not be. For her to be the sole ruler would mean that she would not marry. If she did not marry, the royal line would not continue. As Cobra knew from the ten volumes of the history of Alabasta and the many other books he had read on the histories of other countries, kingdoms had a tendency to collapse when a monarch with neither siblings nor any apparent cousins did not marry and had no heir. If it did not collapse, it at least entered a state of chaos. This could have been remedied if Cobra had had some siblings who had had children to carry on after Vivi. But Cobra had been an only child, as both of his parents had been. Vivi would need to marry, or risk utter chaos upon her death.

And so Cobra worried. There were simply too many examples in the history of Alabasta when a ruler who could have been wonderful on his or her own brought about some sort of disaster through marriage. There were those like Queen Nepthys, who fell to pieces through her personal relationship with the one whom she had married—more often than not because the one that she had married had simply married her out of the desire for the crown. Then there were those like King Geb, who married she whom he truly loved, only to have the people object. Marriage of one of the royal family was a very delicate issue. Cobra knew that Vivi knew that she must marry, and so did not mention his worry. He did, however, recognize that she might choose the wrong man.

It was now two years since the rebellion, and Alabasta, for the most part, had repaired the damage done to it through that horrible disaster. Even people who had once been rebels against him now trusted him devotedly, as though they had not suspected him to be a selfish, thieving monarch only a few years before.

However, this was yet another cause for worry. What if, like King Horus, he had placed too much of the peoples' faith in himself? Vivi was well loved as a princess, but the people had liked Ihy when he was a prince, too. What if not too long after she became queen, there was an uprising?

A page on another ruler caught his eye: Queen Bast. She had been average, and her rule saw significant decline for only a single fault. This fault was her reluctance to punish. If a person expressed any sort of repentance for a crime, she let the person go. This had resulted in an increase in the kingdom's crime rate, and a decline of the kingdom. King Cobra was happy to say that that was one thing that he had no worries about. When Vivi was younger, Igaram had expressed the concern that she was too kind and gentle to make brutal decisions. However, in the midst of the rebellion, Cobra had seen that Vivi had willingly hurt a number of people simply to save the people of her kingdom. He was entirely confident that she would do well where justice was concerned.

"Chaka," Cobra said abruptly, addressing Igaram's second in command. "Send someone to fetch me immediately if anyone comes to see me." And then he stood and strode out of the throne room.

He was heading for Vivi's room—he was going to have a conversation with her that he was sure he should have had long ago. He was going to speak to her about what sort of man she ought to choose for her husband. As he walked, Cobra ran over the list in his head.

He would have to be someone who was well respected by the people, or at least had great potential to be. He would have to be on quite good terms with Vivi on a personal basis, for they would be husband and wife, after all. He had to respect her opinion, and not be the type to take over the crown from her. He would have to be a good father, for would be raising a future king or queen. He would have to be polite and proper, so as to gain respect from the Council of Kings. He would have to be just and wise, and would have to love the Kingdom of Alabasta. He could not take mistresses, for while it was possible, having people running around claiming the right to the throne as a child of the king's mistress had caused many problems in the past. It was often pretense, so it was much easier to have a king that could honestly say that he _had _no mistress, so the whole concept was impossible.

Cobra smiled wryly. When he lined up the requirements like this, it sounded absolutely impossible to find such a perfect candidate. He knew of one who would do perfectly, but was not about to push the match at Vivi. After all, this young man had his faults as well.

As he walked down the passageway to his daughter's room, he could not help noticing that quite a large number of servants and palace guards seemed to be darting out of the way. Was there something special going on here that he didn't know about?

He reached Vivi's room and knocked, but there was no answer. Puzzled, Cobra opened the door a crack. "Vivi?" he tried calling. But there was no response. Opening the door all the way, he scanned the room. It was empty.

Puzzled at his daughter's absence from her room, he began to walk down the passageway back to the throne room when he heard laughter and voices.

"That's ridiculous!" Cobra's eyebrows shot up. That was Vivi's voice…but why was it coming from the courtyard? He looked out the side of the passageway that was set up like a balcony.

"I know. Will you marry me?" Cobra's eyebrows were even higher now. If he was not mistaken…that was Kohza's voice. But what was Kohza doing in Albana? And that proposal had sounded so _unnaturally _casual…

"Kohza, I told you—I'll think about it." _Ah. That explains it. He's been proposing to her regularly. _Then Cobra's eyes spotted Vivi sitting on the courtyard's grass with Kohza at her side. Resisting the urge to laugh, lest they discover him, he simply shook his head and chuckled silently. _So _this _is what she's been doing while I spend my time sitting around in the throne room._

"Please, Vivi," Kohza pleaded, turning to face her fully. The laughter was gone from his voice—their conversation had taken a serious turn. "What's wrong with it?"

"Kohza, do you have any idea how many times this kingdom has been thrown into chaos because a ruler married the wrong person? A queen married a man that she thought was in love with her, but it turned out that he was only after her crown, and he eventually had her killed. A king married the love of his life, a slave, by abolishing slavery, and they both were good rulers, but the people didn't like being ruled by a former slave girl. There was even a queen who married a weak man because she wanted to be the one in charge! I don't want that. When I marry, I want it to be someone who is strong enough to be a good ruler, but at least respects me, and will let me do my share of the ruling, and listen to my opinions. I want it to be someone that can make my personal life happy, too—be a good husband and a good father. I don't want to be hasty and make the wrong decision, Kohza." Cobra gave a wide grin at his daughter's serious speech, and looked down at the book in his hands. He needn't have worried. Vivi was doing more than enough for the two of them. He should have known: a number of ambassadors had come from foreign kingdoms, proposing marriage and alliance, but Vivi had declined every single one. When he had asked her why, she had told him that she knew that such distant oversea alliances would not be very practical, and how was she supposed to know if she could rule well together with someone that she had never even seen before?

"Vivi, I can do that! I can be a good king, and you know I'd let you do your fair share of the ruling." Even from his place above them, Cobra could see that wry smile that slowly spread across Kohza's face. "I know better than anyone how much your punches hurt." Vivi laughed. "And you know I love you. I'm not just trying to get after the crown. I know that marrying you means much more than simply marriage. I'd be king, too. But I love this country, and I love you. I'd try my best to be a good king for the country, and a good husband for you. I'm sure I'll make mistakes along both roads, but I'll learn from them and correct them." Vivi reached up and tucked a stray strand of Kohza's hair behind his ear. He caught her hand and pulled her into a gentle, lingering kiss. Cobra could tell that it was not their first. Kohza had already proven himself a good and effective leader who inspired his people's loyalty during the rebellion, they had been good friends since their second encounter, they were both stubborn enough that neither could ever dominate the other, which was quite rare in any relationship, and they were stealing kisses on what appeared to be a regular basis, and yet Vivi was hesitating about marriage? Good grief! Vivi had been worrying more than enough for the two of them _and _the rest of the inhabitants of the palace!

Cobra assumed that they had to come up for air at some point, but after he waited for a while, the kiss only got more passionate, and they showed no sign of coming up for breath in the near future, he decided that he didn't really want to watch his daughter fight battle for dominance with a man with her tongue—it seemed quite irrelevant that said man was his future son-in-law and her future husband. Especially with the number of soldiers and servants that he could see standing all over the balconies, trying to be inconspicuous, failing, and going completely unnoticed by the couple in the courtyard (did they just hang around here to watch Vivi and Kohza everyday? He would definitely have to make sure that they got more work). So he called out.

"If you're that comfortable with him, Vivi, why not just marry him?" Cobra remarked loudly down at them. It had the desired effect. They sprang apart and looked up at him, startled.

"Father!" Vivi exclaimed, quite red with embarrassment. "How long have you been standing there?"

"About ten minutes, I think. I intended to wait for you to come up for air, but apparently the younger generations don't see the need to breathe when engaged in a battle of tongues, because you've been at it for…how long?" he addressed a soldier on the balcony opposite him. He seemed to be holding something, and King Cobra was quite sure he knew what it was.

"Six minutes and fifty-seven point eight two seconds, sire," the guard replied, and sure enough, he held up a stopwatch.

"Father, why did you bring all these people here?" Vivi asked, finally noticing the number of people that were no longer trying to be inconspicuous, and instead leaning out of the balconies to look at the couple and each other now that the king had blown their cover. Cobra was quite amused to note that Kohza, while not quite bright tomato red like Vivi, was blushing as well.

"Oh, I didn't bring them," Cobra remarked. He had to admit, he was thoroughly enjoying himself. "In fact, it seems that I was the last to find out that this was the daily time and place for entertainment. I was just coming to talk to you about finding someone suitable to marry, but it seems that you've already found one, so Kohza, you propose again, Vivi, you say yes, and then we can get around to planning the wedding." Vivi and Kohza exchanged a startled look at this.

"I take it that you approve, sire?" asked Kohza. Cobra was even further amused by the young man's sudden use of formality. He had never cared for it in the past. In fact, he could still clearly remember him as a young boy, first coming into the throne room to angrily and rudely accuse the king for his village's drought, and then shortly after getting into a violent fist fight with Vivi, and driving the throne room into chaos.

"If I didn't approve and I saw something like that, your head wouldn't be connected to your body anymore," Cobra said, his tone light. Vivi looked absolutely horrified. Kohza looked slightly unnerved.

"Papa!"

"What? I approve, so he's in no danger. Now come on, Kohza, propose. I take it you've done it quite a few times as of late. I'm sure that you can do it again."

Kohza cleared his throat and looked around at his large crowd of enthusiastic audience. Finally, his eyes lit up and he whispered something in Vivi's ear. Vivi whispered something back.

"All done," Kohza told him with a triumphant grin. Cobra noticed that the audience's heads had turned towards him, waiting in suspense for his reaction.

"Nope, I have to hear it. For all I know, you're just trying to trick me so that you can go your separate ways and Vivi can marry someone who _won't_ make a good king. So say it loud enough that I know what you're actually saying." Now Cobra wore the triumphant grin, and Vivi looked horrified. She buried her face in her hands and he heard something that sounded strangely like a choked out "papa". Cobra shrugged. She had been meeting him in secret, so she would be the one to pay the price. And Kohza too, of course.

The audience was leaning over the railings, anticipating the proposal. Kohza sighed in resignation.

"Vivi, will you marry me?" he asked blandly.

"Yes," she replied, just as blandly.

And then they looked up at him, seeking his approval. There were collective groans of disappointment from the audience. _I think I'll go with the audience here,_ Cobra decided. Yes, even with the prospect of handing over his daughter to another man, protective though he was, Cobra was having fun. Besides, what better man could there be for her to marry than Kohza?

"Nope," he said with a grin. The audience cheered. Vivi buried her face in her hands again. Kohza restrained himself from burying his face in his hands, but he looked as though he sincerely would have loved to.

"What do you _want_ us to do, Papa?" Vivi called up, embarrassed and blushing. _You shouldn't have asked, dear daughter,_ Cobra thought, now even more triumphant.

"Well, just his heartfelt proposal and your consent would have done a moment ago," he told them cheerfully, "but now that you ask, maybe that isn't enough. Kohza, you need to make a heartfelt declaration of love _and _a heartfelt proposal, and Vivi, you'll need to make _your_ heartfelt declaration of love with your heartfelt acceptance." His daughter and future son-in-law looked horrified.

"You want us to do that in front of _half the palace?_" Vivi demanded incredulously. Cobra looked down at the two of them for a moment.

"Now that you mention it, that does seem a bit unfair, doesn't it?" he said thoughtfully. He beckoned to a guard a little way down the hallway. The guard approached him nervously. Cobra leaned in and whispered into the guard's ear. "Listen, I want Igaram, Chaka, and Pell all here in the next two minutes. If you see any servants or guards who aren't doing anything particularly important along the way, give them directions to this show." He hesitated for a moment, but then changed his mind. "Wait. Make that five minutes, and take the rout with the most people doing nothing important that you can think of." The guard looked at his king, incredulous, but saluted and ran off.

As they waited, Vivi and Kohza began to feel quite uncomfortable. Was it only their nerves, or did the audience seem to be increasing?

When Igaram, Chaka, and Pell all arrived, bewildered and following the giddy guard.

"I've managed to get over fifty more people here," the guard happily informed the king. Cobra patted him on the shoulder.

"Thank you. That was very helpful," he told the guard, just as happily. Unfortunately, this conversation reached Kohza and Vivi's ears.

"You what?" Kohza shouted up at the guard incredulously. The guard looked down and shrugged.

"King's orders," the guard told him.

"Papa…" Vivi sounded rather faint.

"What? You agreed that only half the palace watching was unfair." Vivi was looking rather green. Kohza put an arm around her waist, giving it an affectionate squeeze—the sort that one gives his lover just before they go to meet their doom. "Oh, come on, you've been doing it for how many days now?" Cobra looked among the rapidly multiplying servants and guards for an answer.

"Two weeks and three days," a maidservant said.

"There you go," Cobra told them. "Vivi, if you'd said yes two weeks and three days ago, then you might have had only one or two people in audience—maybe even none."

"So what are we watching?" asked Igaram as he, Chaka, and Pell learned over the edge, surveying the peculiar scene with interest. Instantly, there was an uproar as everyone tried to explain at once.

"Silence!" roared Cobra. And there was silence. He turned to Igaram. "Vivi and Kohza have been meeting in secret for two weeks and three days—always here at the same time of day. They acquired quite an audience. Vivi has been refusing Kohza's repeated proposals because she's too worried about the country for her own good. To tell the truth, I wouldn't have interrupted, but once they started a tongue battle and didn't seem to find it necessary to breathe at all. So, now we're going to watch a heartfelt proposal."

"You mean we'll be able to hear it from up here?" asked Pell, looking down incredulously. Cobra shrugged.

"I could hear fine when they were unaware of their audience. But if we can't hear them, they'll have to do it again. Right?" he called down pleasantly. Kohza had given up looking dignified, and was burying his face in Vivi's hair. Neither of them moved. "Might as well get on with it," Cobra suggested. "But if you feel like waiting, I think there're still about one or two hundred more people that I could call. Or we could just bring in a microphone, and set up the national speakers." This brought the couple's heads snapping up.

"No!" they shouted up at the king, amidst the giggles that broke out among the audience.

"Get on with it, then!" Cobra called down impatiently. He was pleased to note that Igaram, Chaka, and Pell were all enjoying themselves. They were leaning over the balcony with their arms resting on the top of the low wall. Chaka's smile was slightly sympathetic, but Igaram was shaking his head in amusement, and Pell was not even bothering to conceal his laughter.

Kohza and Vivi resigned themselves to the fate that would get worse if they did not carry it out. Vivi gave Kohza a sympathetic hug, and Kohza gave Vivi an encouraging kiss on the top of her head. Then they stepped away from one another. Kohza looked up at King Cobra and Igaram, Chaka and Pell standing beside him. Shaking his head, he took a deep breath, cleared his throat, and nervously descended to one knee.

"Princess Vivi," he began formally, "we've been friends for years. I know our first encounter wasn't all that encouraging"-Kohza found himself giving a small, nervous grin, and heard a number of voices chuckling and giggling at that-"but over the years, I have come to know and admire you very much. I've never seen you as anything less than an equal, and as I learn more about you, I cannot help but admire and love you all the more—the lengths to which you're willing to go for your country, the things you're willing to give up, the love you display to all around you, you're unwavering determination and stubbornness… Even the way that you tend to worry ten times more than you should. I love everything about you, Vivi. I would be honored, and could not possibly be happier if you would accept my hand in marriage. I know that that means taking both the responsibilities as your husband and as king of Alabasta, and I know that it might be hard. But I love this country, and I love you, and I will do the best I can in both parts." He took a deep breath. There. He had spilled his heart out in front of an audience of something hundred. Now, if Vivi would only accept…

"I love you, Kohza. The way that you put your life on the line for those that you care about, the way that you can be so determined and stubborn that we argue on and on until someone brings in a change of topic or drags us apart, the way that I can never seem to win a fist fight against you, the way that you fight for what you believe in, no matter who or what tells you to stop… I know that you made a wonderful leader for the rebels in the rebellion—maybe years from now, history books will say that the rebels still didn't trust the royal family, and that we married as a treaty between the Nefertari family and the rebels. But I know that you'll make a good king, and that you're all I ever wanted in a husband, and I love you—and in reality, that's why I'll marry you. I know that you'll let me do my share of the ruling, but if you don't like something, you'll fight about it. And I'll fight right back. I think we'll make a good pair: both politically and personally." Vivi gave Kohza a hesitant smile. She wasn't really the type to spill out her emotions like that, but perhaps it would be worth it…

"Really?" her new fiancé breathed. Vivi grinned and nodded. Kohza leapt up with a laugh, grasped her around the waist, and spun her around. Vivi laughed with delight, and even as he spun her, she wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him to her in a kiss. She felt him slow and set her down, but did not break the kiss for a few moments.

Then she suddenly remembered where they were. Their arms still around each other, they looked up at the king, pleading with their eyes for his consent. All the laughter went silent as everyone awaited the king's verdict.

Cobra was silent for a few moments, deliberately building the suspense. "Very well," he said finally. "That will do." Vivi and Kohza breathed a unified sigh of relief, resting their heads on each other's shoulders. They obviously thought that their utter humiliation was ended.

Oh, how wrong they were.

"I hope that there's a scribe in this ridiculously large audience!" King Cobra called loudly. Vivi and Kohza looked up in surprise. The entire courtyard went silent. Then one man stepped forward on the second floor.

"I am, sire," he said.

"And I," said another man on the first floor.

"Has either of you recorded the events that just transpired?" he asked. The two men mutely shook their heads. Just when Vivi and Kohza thought that they would be lucky for once that day, another man spoke up. He was scribbling something as he spoke.

"I have, sire. Everything." He sounded very confident as he looked up.

"Good. Go and record it in the official records." The man nodded, scribbling once again.

"Could you just tell me what you were thinking, sire?" he asked. "Throughout this whole event? I think it would be best told through your eyes, king as you are."

"Very well," Cobra agreed. "I shall meet with you later today to discuss that." The scribe nodded, again scribbling furiously.

And so it was that the proposal of Kohza and Princess Vivi literally went down in history.

An interesting note to the reader of this book, _The Official History of Alabasta: Volume XI_: as you will read in the next chapter, King Kohza and Queen Vivi reigned during the Great Golden Age of Alabasta, and are said to be two of the greatest rulers of Alabasta, even rivaling the King of Kings and the Mother Queen. While in many cases, such great kings and queens are succeeded by not-so-great children, King Kohza and Queen Vivi's four children all grew up to be wise, intelligent, and clever. However, while there is this extremely detailed record of their proposal, almost nothing is known of their personal life after that. It is a fact that many find quite amusing, however, that after their rather humiliating but romantic and humorous engagement, it was nearly impossible to find them at unexpected times. The only cases in which they could be found in a certain place at a certain time were supper and the throne room. It is said that they even relocated their bedchambers every night, although some scoff and say that that is merely a myth.

_**Author's Note: **I actually had quite a bit of fun writing this, if you couldn't tell. I know that the first story was kind of sad, so I decided to make this one more fun. I'm trying to do something different with each story—the first story was told by Gol D. Roger, this one, you find out in the end, turned out to be from the official records… So, what did you people think of it?_

_A huge _huge _thank you to **Captain-Hina's-Love-Slave **and **Nehszriah **for their reviews! Thanks, both of you!_


	3. People's Dreams

"_You're getting on my nerves, Smoker-kun."_

"…_? Too many things come to mind…"_

"_Since the Straw Hats got away…you seem quite happy."_

–Black-Cage Hina and White-Hunter Smoker

**Story 3: People's Dreams**

So…I'm supposed to write in this thing. The fact that I have nothing to say aside, I have absolutely no idea why Hina thinks that it would help me to write in this. Well, I've written. I'm done.

Okay, Hina just asked me to hand over this thing. She was very displeased that there were only four short sentences in it after I've had it for six months. She says that it ought to help with my 'anger management' problem. Ha. Like I have any anger management problem. I just don't like doing what people tell me to do. Well, I _do _owe Hina a big favor for getting me out of that last pinch…

Hina says that I ought to be numbering the days in this. She says that otherwise, it'll look like I wrote everything in the same day. She's looking over my shoulder at this and is very annoyed that I'm not taking her advice. Now she's yelling at me. I can do without dating everything. I know when I wrote it. It isn't as though anyone else is going to read it, and I'll know when I wrote it. Hina, take that hint. No one else is supposed to read my diary. If they do, I see no point in writing it in the first place. She's sighing. I think she's accepted defeat.

Hina, Hina, Hina. How is it that everything I write in here revolves around _Hina_?? I write because you want me to write (yeah, that's right, I'm directing this at you), and it's all entirely rubbish that talks about what _Hina_ wants me to do.

_Now _Hina wants me to write about what happened today. Again, I'm only doing this because I owe her a rather large favor. Nothing special happened today, so why don't I write about how I came to owe you this rather large favor, your royal highness reading over my shoulder? Good. I went out on deck just when a couple pirates came into view. We caught up with them, and- Fine, fine! I'll write it properly so stop yelling in my ear! What an ingrate… It happened about six months ago when Hina and I were taken out on our first real fight. We've always been rivals in everything, and so we've come to know each other quite well. We were talking- Fine, arguing! Hina, didn't I tell you not to yell in my ear? Anyway, we were arguing about something insignificant, I can't remember what- For the third time, Hina! _Don't_ yell in my ear, or I'll stop writing all together! Hina would like me to write that we were arguing because I thought that it was ridiculous that we should have to follow orders when we're in battle and it's all a matter of life and death. Which I still think. See, it's not all that hard to just hiss, is it? There's no need to yell. Yes, I know I'm being rude. Now can I just get on with the story that you wanted me to write so badly? While we were arguing, a pirate ship came into view. We were really very busy arguing, and never noticed until our ship pulled up alongside theirs, and the battle began. Yes, yes, fine, I'll write it, I heard you the first ten times. Her Interrupting Majesty wants it known that she noticed the pirates before I did and tried to stop the argument and warn me, but I wouldn't listen and just went on arguing. Personally, that's not the way I remember it, because I seem to recall her suddenly cutting in and trying to contradict me just when I was winning, as if trying to escape defeat. Look, do you want to argue about it, or do you want me to write? That's right, humph at me. At least I'm the victor. So, anyway, a pirate came up behind me and had his hands around my neck before I could stop him. I was choking, and I suppose I must have passed out after that. Hina says that yes, I most certainly did. She says that she fought the pirate off of me (convenient, wasn't it, that you waited until I was already dying from lack of air?) and captured him. As I was unfortunately passed out, her story was the version that everyone heard. The men were about to demote me back to an odd-job boy or even send me away altogether, and Hina helped me. She'd found two Devil's Fruits, and ate one herself and gave me the other. She trained with me that night, to help me get used to my new powers. So, thanks to her and my new strength, I'm still a Marine.

I've decided to write occasionally, simply because I really _do _owe Hina a favor, and she didn't really ask anything all that difficult. (Hina, if you ever read this, don't feel smug. I still think you're the bossiest person I've ever had the misfortune to meet.)

Every single thing I've written so far talks about Hina. I'm seriously going to hide this in a place where no one else can find it, because I can think of quite a few humiliating ideas that people could come up with should they come across this and find me writing about _Hina_ all the time.

Lunch was absolutely disgusting. I don't know what got into the cooks today, but I could have sworn that I could taste dirt in the food.

One toilet in each of the men's restrooms exploded. It's going down as an _accident_. Of_ all_ the moronic conclusions to come to about multiple exploding toilets!! I'm reasonably confident that it was one of those crazy perverted guys, because we males now have to share a bathroom with the females. It's ridiculous, the number of things boys who are _supposed_ to be men do. I'm seriously considering holding all such needs in my bladder until one of the men's restrooms are fixed.

The pirates we fought today were _absurd_! Tried to defend their treasure instead of running away. Granted, it made the job easier for us, but I would think that treasure wouldn't matter next to freedom. To each his own, I suppose.

My Devil Fruit power is smoke. I've found that it's useful in capturing pirates, as I can capture them with my body. Hina's power is caging. She can cage anyone who passes her in solid metal. I suppose our powers are similar.

I didn't listen enough in training today. I had to do lines. How writing the same sentence over and over is supposed to make me into a better Marine, I have absolutely no idea.

What _are _those people doing in the kitchen? We had fried brown things for breakfast. I could have sworn that they looked like cut up old boots.

I actually enjoyed training—they put me in a special training for people with Devil Fruit powers. Hina's in it too, but she spent half the time arguing with the instructor. For once, though, I don't blame her. That guy _was_ looking at her with rather…lecherous eyes. Am I honestly surrounded by hormone-raging children that call themselves men?

I wish all members of the Marine forces would drop dead. We had to watch information tortured out of a pirate. Sickening. I thought we were supposed to be working for the common good?

Hina says I don't write enough. (Even though I simply can't see how this many entries can be considered too little.) She's looking over my shoulder again, telling me to write something longer today. Well, nothing spectacular happens around here. What can you expect me to say? Fine. I'll write about why I became a Marine. I was a little boy at the time—about four or five. For heaven's _sake_, Hina, everyone's a child at some point in time. I sincerely doubt that I was _cute_, unlike Your Conceited Highness. No, that wasn't a hidden complement—cute people turn conceited, like you. Thank you. I was in Logue Town, my hometown. It was also hometown to the famed 'Pirate King', Gol D. Roger, as well as his deathbed. What struck me about him, though, was that he smiled as he died. I admired him. Yes, Hina, _admired_ a pirate. But every pirate after that turned pale at their moment of death, I noticed. That was the beginning. But after that, one pirate after another tried to massacre Logue Town. One succeeded in killing a boy that I was friends with. That was why I decided to become a Marine. People tried to become pirates after the Pirate King, in an attempt to become the next. But not one was Pirate King material—they only killed and stole ruthlessly. And my old man always wanted me to do something useful with my life. A Marine suited me and my old man's requirements of me. What's that, Hina? A dream? No. I didn't have any particular dream about becoming a Marine or anything. That's for sentimental fools. Is this long enough for you?

Bad day. Grumbled about the green fungus-and-slime-like glop we got for lunch. Was hit over the head with a ladle full of said glop. Hair has now been—apparently permanently—dyed green. Even worse, Her You-Know-What Highness says it's very _becoming_.

A massacre was reported from Logue Town this morning. It's honestly idiotic. What are those fools that call themselves Marines doing in that town?

I'm tired. I'm supposed to be taking notes right now, but I'm bored, and Her Bossiness kept me up all night because she wanted company in training. She now owes me a favor. A huge one, because I'm going to flunk everything from tiredness.

See?? Someone saw me writing and tattled. My grades are now all having fifty percent deducted. I'm told, "Were you more like your friend Hina, we could have overlooked it. You ought to try and be more like her." Well, of all the things to tell people! Is that what they tell everyone who does something wrong??

An elder yelled at me for something or another. His voice was shrill, and gave me a headache. I didn't hear what he said, but I think it was something about not taking today's attack seriously enough. What, I got them all captured, didn't I?

Almost drowned today. Hina and I had our first independent battle (but I'd like to know how it's independent when they put the two of us together) and we were doing _fine _till she threw a pirate at me when I wasn't expecting it, it knocked me backwards, and I ended up hitting the helm, which broke. And of course, being unable to swim, we had capture the pirates, then get in the lifeboat and row to shore, then come back with another boat to retrieve the pirates. And a couple pirates came to and escaped while we were doing that.

I swear to never eat in that cafeteria again. Today it even_ smelled_ bad. Usually, at least it's odorless.

I've been promoted. Ha. Just because of my Devil Fruit powers. I'll be on probation for a while, and if I do well, the promotion will be permanent. They say it's because of my age. Hina, however, is promoted without any probation, and she's two years younger. They're just worried that they won't be able to control me properly. I told them to let me take over in Logue Town. They argued, but they've consented. It'll be refreshing to be free of people breathing down my neck—figuratively and literally. Yes, I mean you, Hina. Do you honestly need to read over my shoulder like that all the time?

I'm in Logue Town now. My first day, and already I've had to handle two pirate attacks.

The food's good here. They actually cook edible food items properly with edible spices.

This is absurd. They put me on probation, and yet I do all the fighting. Those guys who're supposed to watch me just breathe down my neck about paperwork, and when it comes to battles, they hide behind anything handy. Idiotic.

Another display of cowardice. Disgusting. One of these days, I'll just step aside and leave them to the mercy of some gruesome, blood-loving pirates.

The cowards finally left. I'm free to run Logue Town's Marines. They left with a warning not to tear apart the city, though. What do they think I am—a pirate?

It's not as exciting as I thought it would be. Pirates frequently appear, but I've yet to meet one to put up a decent fight.

I've gained respect from the town. A lot of it is terror-induced respect, but it's respect. It's a pleasant change.

Boring. Nothing to do. Oh, there're pirates right and left: pirates that're so weak, you wonder how they ever got into the Grand Line, let alone made it this far.

Well, I haven't seen this in years. Hina never checked to see if I was writing, and it was a waste of time, anyway, in my opinion. I still think it's a waste of time, but I found it interesting to read my past thoughts. I'd almost forgotten how much I hated the cafeteria food when I was training. I'm not at Logue Town anymore. I'm in the Grand Line.

Now that I have a lot of time on my hands, there's something that I want to write about. (Hina's never going to read this again, so I don't have to worry about it being seen.) I met a pirate. What first alerted me to the fact that he wasn't like the usual pirates I met was his smile—on the verge of death. He was saved by an extremely lucky bolt of lightening, but at that point, he was sure that this was the end—that he would die. And he smiled. His name is Monkey D. Luffy. I don't believe he's related to Gol D. Roger, though there certainly are some similarities between them, including their names. He was the first pirate to escape since I started handling the Marines in Logue Town, and I followed with my men. Not for revenge—because he was unnerving, unlike any pirate I'd ever met. I've encountered him on multiple occasions; he told one of his men to save me once, and I let him and his comrades go after that. They remind me of something I'd forgotten…but I think I'll write about that some other time. I've written enough for a day.

Those _fools_ that call themselves _Marines_!! How the hell do they become Marines without any knowledge of the difference between right and left??

Hina once told me to write why I became a Marine. I wrote that it was because pirates seemed like villains, and the job suited me. That was a lie. I was lying to myself, too, at the time. Straw Hat, as Monkey D. Luffy is known, reminded me of that. He's a pirate because it's his dream to be one. But that's not because he wants to kill or steal or get rich—it's because he wants to adventure, regardless of regulations. It's his dream to be a pirate. I don't think I'm that different from him. I wanted to stop those massacres that pirates brought with them wherever they went, and I wanted to meet my match in battle. Even before I ate the Devil Fruit, I was undefeated in hand-to-hand combat. I wanted to see someone like the Pirate King, who would intrigue me. Well, Straw Hat has. I suppose that Hina was right when she observed that I was glad to see Straw Hat and his crew escape us at Alabasta (Hina is _definitely _never reading this). I want to fight Straw Hat myself. It doesn't matter if I win or lose. When I say 'I wanted to meet my match', I don't mean just in physical combat. I wanted a worthy opponent that I could honestly respect. Straw Hat annoys me to no extent, and never thinks about anything. He's the exact opposite of anyone I'd ever have thought I would consider a worthy opponent. But his heart is larger than half the Marine force's put together, and under that idiotic exterior is hidden one of the wisest people I've ever met. Sometimes, an idiot's wiser than a bunch of old, experienced elders.

We haven't seen land in quite a while, and the cook says we're going to run out of food if we go too long. I thought I told him to buy twice the usual amount of food at the last port.

It's been a long time since we found any trace of Straw Hat. A bunch of my men stared at me in shock when I said that the chase is part of the fight. They don't understand Straw Hat like I do, I suppose.

What's a 'dream'? Something that you work towards, I used to think. Now I don't think that's all there is to it. To me, the word 'dream' now means something that you're willing to put your life down for; something that you'll pursue to the edges of the world. I've been looking up things about Straw Hat and his crew. He's got quite a crew under him. In fact, his first two members' previous jobs set them against pirates. I suppose that it's his dream that drew them to him.

Fool. Imbecile. One of my men turned traitor. Betrayed everything about us to some pirates. Don't even remember their names—that's how weak they were. Unbelievable.

Tashigi broke her wrist fighting some insignificant pirate. It's the most idiotic thing I've ever seen her do, but I have to admit that I admire her stubbornness. She hasn't told anyone about the broken bone, and hides the bandages under her sleeve, using her left hand all the time.

The word 'dream' seems to haunt me. I wonder what mine is? I call my men fools for not understanding Straw Hat, but how can I claim to understand him if I have no dream?

I caught half my men—more than half, probably—sleeping. In broad daylight. When we were supposed to be on guard.

No one else has noticed Tashigi's wrist. It's ridiculously obvious, the way she uses her left hand all the time and trains overtime so that she can use her left hand in battles. Am I honestly surrounded by imbeciles?

A storm battered our ship while we stopped for supplies. We're staying on land for a week while it's fixed up. They wanted two weeks, but no matter how much I yelled, apparently the fastest they can work is one.

I wonder why Tashigi tries to find swords all the time and obsesses over them so much? Is it a dream or an obligation to her, I wonder?

It's very brave of Tashigi to try and handle her pain on her own and all, but it's starting to get tiring. She can't fight half as well as she normally does, and yet still no one else notices. If this goes on much longer, I think I just might yell at her in front of her men.

A week's passed, and I went to get back our ship. But, apparently, the workers didn't realize that they didn't have a component they needed, and it's going to take another week for that component to get here, and then yet another week to fix the ship. So we're still stuck here.

I've decided to trade my Marine ship for a new one. The elders won't be happy, but they're all senile idiots anyway.

The seas are so vast. Maybe someday I'll quit being a Marine and see the world.

I have a dream, I've realized. My dream is to fight a worthy opponent. Straw Hat's worthy enough, surely, but his abilities leave him helpless if I catch him. So he continues to run, and I continue to chase. I suppose that it's idiotic to chase after someone that could never defeat me, but maybe I'll meet a decent match along the way—someone that I can truly fight. In the meantime, Straw Hat isn't a bad replacement. He's only the second pirate that I've ever thought to be any more than a nuisance in my life, after all. And he has a dream—a strong, rooted dream. If nothing else, that makes him a worthy opponent.

_Author's Note: That was actually really hard to write. Smoker's a complex character, and delving into his past and present definitely wasn't easy—that's the reason for the over-long wait. I hope it wasn't bad._

Much thanks to Nehszriah (really? Are you into Egyptian mythology, too, then?)_, Captain-Hina's-Love-Slave_ (Me too! I was laughing to myself as I wrote that ending. I hope you like this one!)_, and zenfry_ (Thank you so much!) _for their wonderful reviews!_


	4. These Cannot Be Stopped

"_Well, after all this time, off he goes. It's going to be rather dull without him here."_

"_Humph! Shame of the village, he is, thinking to become a pirate of all things."_

"_To think that he's actually gone for real."_

–Makino, the Mayor, and Gyol-san

**These Cannot Be Stopped**

She had always been caring. Many who knew her often said that she cared too much—so much that it would one day be the death of her.

But she, naturally, had smiled at such teasing words and never taken them seriously. After all, kind and caring though she was, she was not blind to the fact that it was those traits of hers that gave her half her business. And monetary profit aside, it also gave her a deeper understanding of the people in the village where she lived. If people had problems, they would bring them to her, and she was more than willing to lend a sympathetic ear and the occasional advice.

Since childhood, she had never been the type to join a single crowd, but instead mingled with everyone who would allow it. Her smiles and kindness had a warm, calming effect on almost everyone, and so she had never had any trouble socially. People always brought her their problems, for they knew that she could be relied on not to judge or reprehend them. Neither did she ever attempt to give advice out of obligation. In fact, she rarely ever gave any advice; only when the person was floundering, and in desperate need of guidance, or when she felt that there was a particular piece of advice that would help the situation. But generally, she just listened, and kept what she heard to herself. And that was enough to make each and every person who talked to her feel loved.

And certainly, she did love them. She had never been one to act or lie, and every smile that graced her lips and every word that left her mouth was genuine. That was another thing that drew people to her.

It was also another thing that made some people shake their heads as they repeated that her caring heart would be the death of her.

Still, she never quite took that seriously.

Until there came a time when she realized that they were right. But while people had told her that it was caring too much about too many people would be the death of her, it was, in fact, only that she cared too much about two people.

Just two. And it did not kill her, but though no one ever saw it—for she continued to smile and care and listen—it killed a certain innocence that she had always held.

It started with a young orphaned boy. Well, not quite orphaned: his elder brother was still there. But the two boys had no parents. She had known the parents quite well, in truth. Their mother had drifted to shore one day almost three years before the elder boy's birth, and she had been the one to care for her. The boys' father, the village's regular troublemaker, had suddenly stopped making trouble to pursue this new young women, who, in turn, was smitten with him. A year after the young woman washed to shore, the young couple was married.

Knowing both parties of the couple as she knew everyone in the village, she had been delighted to see that each was genuinely in love with the other. She, like everyone else on that particular island, believed that the two would live long, happy lives and die an old couple.

So it was a great blow to everyone in the village when the young woman died giving birth to the pair's second son. Her widow, still as smitten with her as he had been when he first laid eyes on her, took it hardest. But he went on, raising his two sons on his own—with the helpful hands of the rest of the village, of course.

Then, when the younger boy had just turned three, he went out on a ride in a rowboat.

He never returned.

No one knew exactly what had happened, and there was all sorts of speculation. Some said that he had been caught in one of those regional storms that hit a single, tiny area hard without warning, and others claimed that, exhausted by the toils of parenthood, he had run away to begin a new life elsewhere.

She, however, had known him as she knew everyone else in the village, and knew that while his sons had exhausted him, he had treasured them more than anything else in life. But she kept quiet as she always did when it came to rumors, for she knew that it was no good to attempt to correct gossip: an attempt to correct it usually only twisted it further.

The boys lived in their home together after that, and were raised collectively by the village. Or so most villagers said. She liked to think of it as that they had raised themselves. Naturally, they had to rely on the villagers for many things—food, for example. But following their father's death, the elder boy matured significantly, and at the age of six, doubly filled in the roles of father and brother for the younger boy, and they rarely needed the sort of emotional support that children generally need from their parents. They relied on each other for that, subconsciously though it may have been.

While the elder boy had his more than his fair share of immature aspects—the villagers were particularly irked by the fact that he could not seem to separate the concepts of 'meal time' and 'nap time' at all—he had a great deal of emotional maturity where his brother was concerned, and this earned him the village's affection.

The younger brother, on the other hand, did not seem affected by his father's death in the least. Every attempt to explain the concept that his father was gone failed miserably, and he remained supremely unconcerned by his father's long-term absence. No one could figure out whether he simply could not remember that his father had been gone for so long, or he had some strong conviction that his father would someday return. But the villagers knew that this was a boy with whom logic simply did not function, and so they shrugged it off.

Perhaps it was that unpredictability that had first endeared the younger brother to her more than the elder. Before she knew it, she was looking forward to the young boy's presence in her bar above anyone else's. He never came to tell her his problems as many others did—if he talked to her about something of the sort, it was to brag of something he had done recently, or, more often, to talk of his dreams. He was a dreamer above all others—one day he would want to fly, and the next he would want to ride a train through the sea. So she would smile and listen to him, and before she knew it, she loved him more than she would have loved a son of her own had she had one.

Perhaps she should have seen the danger then. But she did not.

And then, when the boy was five, a pirate ship docked at the little village's harbor. Though open and friendly by nature, the villagers were at first—and who could blame them?—very cautious and reserved. However, it was not long before they were assured that the pirates were as open and friendly as they were by nature, and the villagers relaxed.

The pirates frequented her bar, and she, of course, talked with them as she talked with everyone else. Seeing her growing friendship with the pirates, all remaining caution of the villagers flew out the window—friendly though she was, she was a good judge of character, and knew to keep her distance from shady characters. In a way, it could be said that her standards were the ones by which the villagers treated newcomers.

The pirates left only a week later, and she went on smiling and laughing—as much as she cared about them and they were her friends, she had never felt more than a small pang of regret to see people leave, as long as that was what they truly wanted to do. But even so, when they returned again a week later, she was delighted. And so began the pirates' two-year-long stay in the village. Oh, they went out here and there at times, but the village was something of their home base.

Naturally, she came to care for the entire crew deeply. But it was the captain that drew her—and everyone else's—affection more than ever. The boy who frequented her bar to talk to her suddenly was coming twice as often to spend time with the pirates and especially their captain, and his flighty dreams were suddenly not flighty at all, halting at a desire to become a pirate.

The boy would beg—demand, to be more accurate—for them to take him along, the captain would blatantly refuse and tease him, and the boy would retaliate angrily. She would always laugh as she listened to the crazy banters, and the boy made all manner of ridiculous attempts to be admitted as one of the pirates.

The most ridiculous of which was stabbing himself in the face below the eye.

When she heard about this particular incident, she had not known whether to laugh or scold the boy for the ridiculousness. She settled for laughing, for the boy had done no lasting harm—a scar, perhaps, but she knew him well enough to know that he would react to a scar on the face pride rather than humiliation.

And amidst the pirates' stay and the boy's interaction with herself and the captain, somewhere down the line, she found that she loved that captain. He would tease the boy for absolutely everything, but was always laughing, always with a smile on his face. She never considered whether she loved him as a brother or a lover. All she knew was that her love for him rivaled her love for the boy.

She treasured her time with the two of them more than anything, for she now knew that the people who had said that caring would be the death of her were right. Both the captain and the boy would leave her one day, and she would not follow. So she lived everyday to its full, placing great value in each moment she spent in their company.

A group of bandits entered her bar, once, while the pirates were there. The leader was angry beyond all reason to learn that the pirates had drunk out the bar's entire stock of wine. The captain offered them a bottle of wine that had not yet been opened, but the bandit leader broke it, covering him and the floor with broken glass and wine. She was mildly surprised when, instead of being angered, he began to pick up the broken glass from the floor. The bandit leader broke a number of dishes in his ire, and left. The captain laughed it off, just like the carefree but mature man he was. The only reason why no one had ever dwelled on this incident was that, while everyone else was conveniently distracted by the captain and bandit leader, the boy had proceeded to unknowingly eat a Devil Fruit, turning himself into a rubber-man. She chuckled to herself at this as everyone else panicked, for she was quite sure that the boy would be quite fascinated by this new development as soon as he got over the shock.

Sure enough, mere days later, he was quite delighted with his new abilities. However, he was a great deal upset with the captain and his crew for laughing off a humiliation rather than standing up and fighting. She had smiled as she listened to this—someday, she was sure, the boy would see the greatness in what his idol had done. It was that same day that the village saw the pirates fight for the first time, when the bandits were beating the boy—uselessly, since such actions had no effect on his now-rubber body—for defending the pirates. It was also that same day that the captain lost his arm for the boy's sake.

And a few weeks later, they left for good. But the captain left his hat with the boy. And that hat carried the promise that someday, when the boy was a great pirate himself, they would meet somewhere on the five seas. As she watched with a smile, she knew that the boy's dreams would never again be flighty as they once were. She stood with her hands on the boy's shoulder as he attempted to suppress sobs while they watched the ship fade into the distance for the last time.

Now, ten years later, she watches a boat that carries half her heart fade into the distance again. Except this one is not a ship, but a rowboat. Were it anyone else on that boat, she would be worried, but this is Luffy, and Luffy does things that defy the rest of the world's common sense.

She told neither Shanks nor Luffy how much she loved them. She has always known that she can never hold a place in either of their hearts that would rival what she feels for them. She knows that she has a special place in each of their hearts—just not a large one, and she is quite certain that neither felt a single pang in leaving her.

But perhaps that is why she loves them as she does. They do say that the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence. Or perhaps she just loves them for their carefree hearts, and Luffy for his odd childishness and Shanks for his gentle heart and attractive values as well.

Either way, it does not particularly concern her as to _why_ she loves them. A lesser person may resent how the love has been shown to her in such greatness and then been snatched away, but she does not. A lesser woman may have attempted to stop them, or beg one of the two men to take her with him, but she never even considered such a thing. She is well aware that she has no part in their lives outside this village.

She did not try to stop either man. Why? Because neither _could _be stopped, of course. To tell them of her love would have been a binding chain to them; to beg them to stay would have lowered her considerably in their eyes. Each man had something he wanted to do with his life, and her love for the two went deep enough that she would rather they be far away fulfilling their dreams than in the village leading ordinary lives. And so she let them go on their ways without a single protest.

There are some things in the world that simply cannot be stopped. Day becoming night and night becoming day; the changing of the seasons; a giant waterfall that roars off a high cliff; a great fire that blazes high into the sky. Attempting to resist the transition between day and night or the changing of the seasons is foolish and futile, when they can be enjoyed, each stage of the day and year in its own way; a giant waterfall is beautiful to look at, but if one attempts to stop it, one will be killed; a great fire can look beautiful from a distance, but it burns mercilessly in its vicinity. Shanks and Luffy have great flames that burn in their hearts, and she knows it—she also knows that the same concept applies to those fires as with a forest fire.

So she saw off Shanks, and now sees off Luffy, with a smile of pride and joy on her face.

And, she thought as she turned away from the sea after everyone else had already left, maybe they would occasionally think of her fondly in midst of their long, hard voyages. And perhaps the day would come when one or the other would return, and she would see him again.

Loving deeply killed a certain innocence in Makino. But as anyone could see in her smile as she saw Luffy off on his way, it was a gain of wisdom and a different sort of happiness to her.

_Author's Notes: Sorry for the late update. I'm in the midst of a bunch of studies and a few exams. I know this is kind of short, but I like it. So far, I seem to be mostly exploring the lives of characters whose background isn't given. The thing about One Piece is that it gives all sorts of interesting characters, but a lot of them are really complex with next to no background information. I mean, Luffy's the main character, but what do we actually know about him? Next to nothing! Same with Roger, Smoker, etc._


	5. As Long as They Continue to Search

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters, circumstances, or places mentioned as far as chapter 442 of One Piece—those belong to Eiichiro Oda.

_I will make White-Beard king._

–Portgas D. Ace

**Story 5: As Long as They Continue to Search**

"Wake up the others."

"Ye- yes, sir."

"And make sure you don't skip anyone this time."

"O- of course, sir."

"Oh, and you might want to take back that mug that you smuggled from the scullery last night—the cooks are more alert to that sort of thing than you may think."

"I- you-" The man was unable to form another coherent sentence, but I left without a backwards glance. He was new, and I was sure that his stuttering fright would begin to fade soon—it always did.

It was two years since I set out to sea from the small village of my birth, and I was now one of the well-reputed pirates sailing the Grand Line. When men joined under my command, it wasn't uncommon for them to quiver and stutter in fear in the beginning—like the man to whom I had just spoken—and then to become lax and disrespectful towards me after a time. My older crewmates often told me that my casual, unassertive attitude accounted for it, causing my inferiors to believe that I was the type that was strong in battle, but weak and unassertive as a leader. I suppose I _do_ have a few odd habits that could cause such problems. But I always remedied these problems. I ignored disrespectful comments, but when they began to ignore my orders, they were taught that I was to be shown respect. Eventually, all comrades on my ship treat me as an equal, but with respect. That's the way things should be. For though my rank is superior to theirs, we are all brothers as we are comrades.

So I had taken to showing men that while I'm casual and different from the sort of authority to which they were usually accustomed, I was not a leader to be trifled with. It was effective, and there had been a significant decrease in the men that went through the disrespectful stage before settling in. Or perhaps other men under my command told them of their own experiences, discouraging the newer men from doing the same. The means were of no concern to me, just so long as they settled in as one of us.

Ideally, of course, new members of the crew would simply settle in as comrades without going through awkward stages. But I'm talking about one of the largest pirate groups on all the seas—so much that we need multiple large ships to hold all our comrades. Naturally, there's a main ship, but there are several others, as well.

But despite everything, that particular man with whom I had just spoken puzzled me at times. He had been under my command for a week already, and yet he did not change. He still stuttered in my presence, which seemed odd to me. And at the same time, I knew that he held me in very low regard. Since I had been to a city bar with my men—him included, of course—five days before, I had noticed him glaring at me on many occasions when he thought I didn't notice. Even as I walked away from him, I could feel his glare on my back.

I shrugged. If something troubled him, he was free to speak to me or to other crewmates. If he wanted to settle for glaring at me, then that was his loss. The sea is very dull, I've found, when you're occupied with petty grudges and refusing to let go. So I put him from my mind as I always did.

It didn't take long for me to reach my destination—the kitchens. The chefs were accustomed to my irregular eating habits, and always had something prepared. It was something that became natural—that couldn't have been any other way—after a short while.

"What's here today?" I asked, strolling casually into the kitchens. Only one of the three chefs was there—a young, short, rather timid man by the name of Shio. He jumped out of his skin when I entered. I suppose I _was_ rather early, even though there were no rules of time governing my frequent visits to the kitchens.

"We- well…" stuttered Shio, even more timid than usual. "There isn't actually anything prepared yet. I- I'm afraid I wasn't expecting you so early…"

I wasn't listening. The smell of freshly cooked beef had distracted me, turning my eyes from Shio to a large platter of the delicious-smelling meat. It was half-hidden behind the over-large mug used to store cooking utensils, preventing anyone from noticing it from my position at the doorway unless the person already knew that it was there. I turned to Shio with a raised eyebrow (it wasn't polite to just walk around the counter and take it; in the kitchens, the cooks were to be treated with profound respect).

"What's that there?" I asked, indicating the beef.

"It- it's garnishing isn't finished yet," Shio replied, looking more timid every moment. My eyebrow rose higher at that. Why was he so afraid? It wasn't as though I would through him out for not having food ready at every moment of every day. But then again, maybe he didn't know that.

"Is it for anything special?" I asked, not addressing his nervousness. As always, I chose to allow him to overcome that issue on his own.

"Of course not," Shio quickly replied in apparent alarm that I pretended not to notice once again.

"Then you won't mind my taking some," I stated more than questioned. His eyes widened and shot to the cabinets before quickly returning to me. I didn't need to ask to know what he was thinking.

"Don't mind the garnishing," I said as I walked around the counter. "It doesn't matter."

Shio opened his mouth as if to protest—so I saw by means of peripheral vision—as I picked up the slab of meat, but almost immediately closed it again, apparently thinking better of it. I shrugged. If he wasn't going to assert his authority as a chef in the kitchens, _I_ certainly wasn't going to complain. I bit a chunk off the slab of meat, and then didn't wait a second before ripping off my next chunk with my teeth. When that bite was half swallowed, I stuffed the rest of the food into my mouth as I made my way out of the kitchen. I didn't normally eat this way—giant bites, one after the other with almost no chewing involved in between—but I was in a bit of a hurry. I raised a hand to Shio (who was looking slightly nauseated as he stared at me) by way of thanks as I left the room.

I hurried to the main mast and ascended without difficulty. The woman seated in the crow's nest was shivering despite the thick blanket that she had pulled about her body, I saw. She didn't appear to notice me as I swung lightly up into that small space, so I addressed her.

"Time to switch," I told her. She looked up at me at once in surprise.

"It's not fully dawn yet," she told me in a light tone as I sat beside her. She was my second-in-command. I met her not long after I'd left my island in East Blue, and she knew me best—and I her—of all who were on that large ship. That was another thing that, ideally, shouldn't have been—certain members of the crew knowing each other much better than others—but like I said, it was a large ship, and it was nearly impossible to be on completely familiar terms with everyone, though I did try.

"You can get some sleep," I told her. I was well aware that the last man on observation duty had left a whole three hours early (observation duty was done in five hour shifts) and so Kai had been there with no sleep all night.

But as I said, I knew her well, and so it came as no surprise when she laughed and shook her head. She always had been dedicated to the concept of 'duty', although she never imposed that way of life on others. So I stayed beside her, looking out to the still-dim horizon.

"Do you know much about the Devil Fruits?" asked Kai after some time of silence. I snorted. Did I? Of course! I probably knew more about them than most who had not eaten one himself.

"Of course," I replied. Kai shook her head.

"I don't mean about fighting people with powers. I mean about the side that eats one and obtains its powers.

"Of course," I repeated. Kai looked at me expectantly, a look I knew well. "My brother ate one by accident as a kid," I elaborated hastily. Kai was a great comrade, but anything—almost anything—was preferable to risking her spontaneous wrath.

"How can you eat one by accident?" Kai asked, clearly baffled. "They look nothing like an ordinary fruit."

"He's severely lacking in common sense," I replied, my tone wry. Kai smirked, but said no more. She had always known when I desired silence, and I suppose I did at that time, though I myself didn't notice. My mind had instantly wandered to my brother. He was probably living another ordinary day in the village, filling potential peace and quiet with chaos. It was another year before he would be permitted to set to sea, and I had no doubt that he would when the time came.

"Do you miss him?" Kai's voice abruptly broke into my thoughts.

"Nah," I replied after hardly a moment's thought. "I'll meet him someday on the sea."

"He's at sea?"

"Not yet. But he's always said that he'd be a pirate, and I don't doubt that he will. Not even Gramps could sway his mind there."

Kai smiled. Then she looked at me, raising an eyebrow at my attire—only trousers and a hat, as usual.

"Aren't you cold?" she asked.

"Of course not!" I replied automatically. Then her words sank in. It was cold? Now that she mentioned it, it _was_ feeling rather chilly… _Cold!!_ "When did it get so cold?" I demanded, suppressing a shiver with great difficulty. Kai gave a rare laugh.

"Here," she offered, removing the blanket that she had had wrapped around herself to hand it to me. I snatched it quickly and wrapped it around myself.

It was only then that I realized that this left her with nothing but her normal thin clothing covered with a threadbare sweater. That may have seemed like enough if I hadn't remembered her shivers even with the blanket.

"You aren't cold?" I asked. It was a rhetorical question, I suppose, but there really wasn't any other way to address the matter without arousing Kai's anger.

"I'll be fine," she replied, grinning at me.

She was a good actress—could've made a fortune on the stage—and was one of the strongest on my ship (hey, I wouldn't make someone my second in command simply out of friendship), but she was naturally honest, and I knew her well. In other words, I knew that she was suppressing shivers with even more difficulty than I had had.

I didn't argue (god knows it was impossible to argue with Kai without being slaughtered), and acted instead. I wrapped the blanket swiftly around Kai as well, giving her no time to protest. Truthfully, it was much warmer for me too, that way; they do say that body heat is the best way to keep warm, after all. Kai glared at me (more for the insult to her perseverance than anything) but protested no further.

"Maybe I'll see your brother in a year or two," commented Kai after a long silence. "Though more likely as enemies than as allies." I chuckled at that.

"You'd defeat him easily if he hasn't done some extreme improving," I told her.

"Don't you think your own brother deserves more credit?" The expert swordswoman looked at me with an eyebrow raised sardonically. I snorted.

"He's a rubber boy that couldn't even beat me. Swords (and all other sharp objects in existence) are his weaknesses, even though blunt objects—even pistols—are useless against him." Kai smiled and raised an eyebrow.

"You might not miss him-"

"I _said_ I don't!" I cut Kai off quickly. I recognized the loathsome tone that I despised. It was the tone she used when she wanted to have sentimental 'heart-to-heart' talks with me. She was my best friend and a wonderful comrade, but she was also a woman.

She didn't display habits that I had once believed all women to possess, never attempted to use her feminity as a weapon in battle (as I had seen numerous women do and found appalling), and rejected all romantic advances. Actually, I sometimes forgot that she was a woman.

In truth, I had never really even considered interacting with women. It was a view of mine that had developed from watching Shanks and Makino on my home island. I never really went to Makino's bar, but I had seen her and Shanks spending time together on a few occasions when the bar was closed. I had watched as Makino would lead Shanks into a shop—mostly for food and drink, but occasionally clothing as well—and then they would leave with Shanks loaded with bags that were all Makino's purchases. Such memories were quite vivid in my mind, and had shaped my opinion of women as a species I would never approach. It never ceased to bewilder me why Shanks had seemed to enjoy that time with Makino.

Kai, though, was never like that. Right from the beginning, I had never had any urge to treat her the way I normally treated women—she was tough, brave, and had a sense of humor. After a few days in her company on the island, when she decided that she would come along with me as I left, I had had no objection.

But while she did not display most of those disgusting female habits, she retained one trait that I absolutely could not stand: the desire to have heart-to-heart talks every so often, when she thought I was being too something-or-other and needed someone to talk to. They'd become infrequent recently, since she and I had had countless arguments in the past few years in which I'd made perfectly clear now much I utterly loathed those talks.

I ought to have known that the peace wouldn't last.

But Kai was glaring at me, annoyance clear in her eyes.

"Listen before you try to tune me out!" she ordered crossly. I cringed. Okay, apparently I'd been wrong in my assumption of what was to come. Now I'd have to suffer through a lecture that was twice as- "And stop thinking that I'm going to lecture you now!" I cringed again. Kai, of course, ignored this—she needed no confirmation that she had been right in her guess of what I had been thinking. "As I was saying, you might not miss him, but I'm sure that you look forward to fighting him—seeing how much stronger he's gotten."

I blinked in bewilderment, turning Kai's words over in my mind.

"Yeah," I replied at last, hesitant. Even I had never noticed this, but when I thought about it, she was right. Maybe this was just the sort of thing more apparent to outsiders. Still, it wasn't too pleasant to have someone else point out something about me that I'd failed to notice.

"They're up," Kai observed, looking down. I followed her eyes to see the men heading for the kitchens in the new light. It was a custom of sorts to grab a bite to eat (unlike me, they would settle for a cracker or a crust of bread) before heading to their respective jobs.

"I ought to be down there too, then." I quickly slipped out of the blanket and swung out the side of the crow's nest as I spoke, before realizing that it probably wasn't a good idea to leap down to the deck when there were so many groggy men below, extremely vulnerable to being crushed under my boots or having heart attacks at the sight of me raining down from the sky.

I swung back into the observation deck, and noted Kai looking at me with a highly amused expression.

"Hey, I'd crush them if I just jumped out like that," I huffed in annoyance.

"Oh, I know," Kai replied lightly. "I'm just surprised that you didn't realize that from the beginning.

Scowling, I made to leave the normal way—only to feel something cold and sharp penetrate my foot.

I released the railings in shock. It was good that I was accustomed to leaping out of the observation deck, or I might have broken a few legs. As it was, I landed easily.

What had that been? I looked up at the place where my foot had been, puzzled. And I froze.

There was an arrow protruding from the main mast.

I slowly turned around.

One man was holding a crossbow—old fashioned, maybe, but effective nonetheless—and aiming at me again.

That in itself was disappointing, but not particularly alarming. The man had only been on the ship for a month or so, and Pops had warned me that there could be people that join us with the intent of crumbling us from the inside. My job was to bring the crew together—honest and dishonest men alike—and make them realize that we were family. There could be no spying or murdering among us, because we were always family, and we always would be.

Those were the words that first drew me to Pops. I met some of his men on the island—and Kai met them too, of course, since she was with me—and grew friendly with them. Then they asked us to join them, but naturally, we were hesitant. But then I met Pops. He told me not to make my decision in halves. He trusted his men's—his sons'—instincts, and if they believed I was suitable for their crew, then I was. But if I carried the slightest doubt about joining them, he would not let me join. Not ever.

Whatever doubts I'd had before, those words threw out the window. I admired him, and joined out of that admiration. Time went by, and I got better and better at what I did, eventually rising to the position that I was at now. But whenever he put men under my command, Pops was sure to make sure that I understood the responsibility.

Now I was going to have to really show that responsibility.

I had dealt with betrayals before, on the small scale of one or two or three relatively new people. Sometimes, they came to me and confessed their original intentions. But then they would say that in the time that they had spent with us, they had come to realize that they loved our lifestyle much more, and wanted to truly join us.

Then they became one of the 'True Brothers'. This was a secret, known only to Pops and the True Brothers. When someone's as famous as Pops, lots of people want to join him. Some are honest, and others aren't. But how do you tell them apart?

This is Pop's answer: you don't. If a person wants to join, they talk with Pops, and he lets them know the way things are run on his ships. That we're all brothers, and absolutely no betrayal of any kind will be tolerated. That makes some people back away. But not the spies. So after they joined, they would be put on a secret sort of 'provision' for a time, until they proved their worth and their loyalty. Then they became a True Brother, and a true member of the crew.

So I'd dealt with a number of betrayals by people who weren't True Brothers.

But now…behind the man who had shot my foot spread a large number of men. There must have been about fifty.

And half of them were True Brothers.

This stabbed my heart. I'd always thought that when Pops told me to harden my heart to betrayals, he meant not to get too close to the people who weren't True Brothers yet, just in case they turned out to be false.

I never even considered the possibility of a True Brother's betrayal before—let alone on such a large scale. I ran my eyes over the men who stood glaring at me, holding a variety of pistols, swords, and a couple crossbows, clubs, and shotguns.

There was the man that I had just asked to wake everyone up, and the young one from the kitchens. Both new, neither a True Brother. Probably my telling the man to wake everyone up had been a signal to start the plan. And the 'garnishing' that hadn't been done yet—had that translated to 'poisoning'?

Oh well. That didn't matter, and nor did I care. They were new. They weren't True Brothers.

But behind them…

There was Akushi. I'd fought side-by-side with him time and again. We'd always gotten along. Sometimes we'd have small matches on deck, just to test our strengths. He'd never beaten me before. Was that a grudge that had turned him against me?

Makka was holding a gun, pointing it straight at my chest, his face expressionless. Had all the times that we'd swum together in the harbors where we'd stopped been nothing to him? We'd pull each other underwater teasingly, seeing who could reach the shore first as we wrestled and tussled in the water.

Sage. He was quiet. He'd never really talked to me, but he'd saved people's lives time and again when he saw a person in trouble. I'd always admired the way that he was so calm and kind to anyone. It seemed surreal to see him pointing his sword at me, that glint in his eyes that he only gave to enemies now directed at me.

Kimuka had always been the 'clown' of the ship in a way. He would pull off ridiculous tricks and jokes, and never took any insults to heart. He was always fun to have around, and he was one of the last people that I would ever have suspected of disloyalty. He had seemed so happy…

The list went on. There were eighteen others: Nata, Pakki, Succhu, Eme, Rano, Akkaro, Makana, Wasa, Zabe, Biicho, Ijio, Ussa, Jimio, Fagari, Chori, Tan, Gari, and Yame.

If I could, I would have run. That was all I wanted to do—run, and turn my back on this nightmare. I had faced strong men; I had fallen to traps of cunning women; I had suffered too many injuries to count; I had been terribly angry to the point that I wanted to beat someone to pulp.

But they had all been enemies—enemies from the start, or enemies that I had not grown particularly close to before learning that they were so.

Pop's warning ran through my head once more.

_When men are under your command, you're responsible for them. If there are betrayals, you have to deal with them. Even if you considered him a brother until then, once he betrays you, he is no longer your brother and you must not think him so. A person who turns against our codes is no longer your brother. There are small betrayals that can be remedied. But there are large ones that cannot. When you encounter the large ones, Ace, harden your heart. He his no longer brother to you._

Suddenly, a spark of hope lit my heart. These men hadn't done anything yet but point weapons at me. They had fired, but they had missed. Surely that could be made a loophole? This definitely looked like the beginning of a large-scale betrayal. But if I could keep it from escalating that far…

"Why're you guys doing this?" I asked them in desperation. "We're comrades! Brothers! Remember?"

"I could never think you a brother, pirate," Sage said coldly, and his knees bent as he prepared for attack.

I can't remember what else I tried to say. I remember that I pleaded, begged, and shouted to an extent that would have normally made me feel humiliated beyond reason, but all in vain. Not a single one of them showed a single sign of changing their minds.

I watched with pained, horrified eyes as they attacked. Their bullets went clean through my body, as did their blades. I was unharmed.

I saw a brief look of shock cross the faces of the more observant. They had seen flames flicker around where the objects passed through my body.

I felt an ironic smile flicker in and out of existence on my face.

After all, what could be more ironic than that a betrayal like this should take place right after I'd eaten a Devil's Fruit, mere minutes before I'd been planning to announce it?

No one knew yet, and that might have been what saved my life. Otherwise they might have come and dumped a bucket of water over my head (considering I was fire, that might have been disastrous, though I can't say for sure since I never had and never will have any intention of trying) or throwing me into the sea (definitely fatal, this one).

It saved me. But it proved disastrous for everyone who was around and watching.

They started to shoot and slice at the surrounding people when they realized that it was useless to attack me.

I was absolutely horrified, and all reluctance I'd felt to attack them flew out the window. I let my fire-body flare as though it were expanding with anger, and soon all the rebels were on the ground. Some dead, some simply close. And I felt no pity. Because in that moment that they'd attacked my comrades—_mine_, never theirs—I knew that it had all meant nothing to them. If they could so easily kill the people that they had spent months or years with, then they weren't one of us.

I now know that when Pops told me not to hesitate, he meant from the very beginning. Because a traitor will kill our true comrades that we hold close to our hearts.

I didn't realize that when I hesitated to penalize them and attempted to talk them out of it. I didn't realize that generally, once a True Brother turns his back on us, he cannot be turned back because he never was with us in the first place.

And I paid the price.

I was unharmed. Most of the people in the area were simply injured, and recovered. But there was one death.

Kai had been killed. Shot through the heart as she leaned out of the crow's nest to see what was happening.

Kai. My second-in-command. The young woman who had proceeded to attack me and almost win as soon as I entered her village, apparently under the impression that I was about to attack. The woman who had led me to reconsider her entire gender. My best friend, who had always been by my side, and even shown interest in the life I'd left behind. The one who would no longer pursue her aspirations and dreams ever again, all because of me.

I had no idea what to do. It hurt me like I was being torn apart from the inside to know that if only I had hesitated, if only I had carried out my duty at the beginning, my comrade, second-in-command, and best friend would still be alive.

When Pops heard about the incident and called me back, I had already turned our ship to head towards his.

I thought he would shout at me, scold me, demote me for letting one of his comrades—the only fighting woman on his crew—die and many others fall wounded.

Indeed, when I stood before him, the eyes with which he looked at me were severe. But his words struck me.

"You did admirably, Ace," he told me. "I knew I wouldn't regret choosing you."

I stared up at him in disbelief.

"But I let Kai die," I protested. To my surprise, he nodded.

"Yes. And perhaps there will be a part of your soul that is tortured for all eternity for her death. There will be in me."

"But Pops! You didn't have anything to do with it!"

"But I chose you as a leader for my men, and so what mistakes you make are mine."

I looked down, ashamed—no, something so far beyond ashamed that I couldn't describe it.

"I just said that I didn't regret choosing you, didn't I?" Pops snorted. I looked up at him in surprise, turning the words over in my head. "I hear that you tried to talk them out of it—tried to convince them that they were my sons, and you were all brothers." Was that what I had said? "But when they attacked your loyal brothers, you did not hesitate to kill them." He nodded in satisfaction. "That is as it should be, even while I wish you'd moved before Kai was hit and everyone was wounded."

Suddenly, my head seemed to clear. For once, he wasn't drinking, I noticed. And then I noticed how clouded my mind must have been with guilt. I could now see that he was both proud of and angry at me. His comrades were the greatest treasure to him, and I had let one die. The fact that he was not drinking gave away his sorrow at that. I knew that he'd been fond of Kai. Had she changed his opinion of fighting woman pirates, as she had mine? I wondered. I knew that before her, the only women among the White Beard Pirates had been his doctors, and they never fought.

And he was terribly angry at me for letting Kai die. But at the same time, he was as proud as he was angry at me for my hesitation. In his eyes, I saw that he knew that the next time such a situation came my way, there would be no hesitation. I had learned to cut away those that I had considered brothers at the moment that I realized that they were fake. And I had learned that the fakes could be True Brothers, too.

It was in that moment—in his love for his comrades, in his faith and father-like pride in me—that I decided that no one, not even Luffy, would get in his way. I would make him Pirate King, for he was the greatest man sailing the seas.

XXXXX

A year later, a man under my command named Marshall D. Teach—now going by the name 'Black Beard'—killed a comrade. Unfortunately, he and his four followers disappeared almost immediately, so I had to chase them. But this time, there's no hesitation. I knew from the very moment that I started chasing him that no matter what he said to justify himself, no matter what he did, it wouldn't matter. He'd killed a comrade, and in that action, he had shown to me his worth. Anyone who can kill a comrade so easily has no place among White Beard's men.

White Beard is my father, my idol, and my captain. I would do anything for him, and Teach proved that he was so shallow that the word 'comrade' meant nothing to him. So I chased him down.

And now, even with the knowledge that I will lose, I leave one last phrase with him.

"I will make White Beard king."

White Beard—the great pirate who can see right into the hearts of his men; the man who treasures his comrades more than anything, so much that he calls us his sons; the man who had faith in me even in his anger, who I will never turn my back on.

The man whom a comrade-killer like Teach could never hope to become.

And Teach is going to defeat me here and now—maybe he'll even kill me—but someone like him can't prevail. Even if he wasn't serious about being under Pops' command, he said he was, and in doing so, said that certain people were his comrades. And then he killed one.

He has no pride, no honor, and no understanding of what it means to be a 'pirate', and so he will not prevail. After word of my defeat gets out, maybe Pops will hunt him down. Maybe another of the Four Emperors, like Shanks. Maybe even Luffy.

Teach doesn't stand a chance against them. Maybe his Yami-Yami fruit'll keep him going for some time in strength. But in the end, something in his gut will lose. Something in the gut that's hardened by strength and real understanding of what it means to be a 'pirate'. Teach doesn't have that, but Pops and Shanks do; even Luffy does.

That is why I smile, a sort of smirk, as Teach sends me his last blow. I may have failed, but there are others.

And someday, just like I searched on and on for Teach, someone else will seek him out, and he will not stand a chance. Because no matter how he seeks power, he lacks in something that many people that I know do have.

True understanding of the words "dreams", "freedom", and "comrade", summed up into one: "Pirate".

And as long as those people continue to search for him, he stands no chance against a single one.

_**Author's Note**__: Why did it take me so long to write? Because I wanted to wait until I'd _finally_ finished reading all the chapters I'd missed. Ugh, it took ages. It's really hard to read that stuff on the internet, so I could only go at a rate of something like an occasional five chapters per day. Then I decided to write something about Ace chasing Black Beard. And then, just when I was about finished, there came a chapter about Ace and Black Beard fighting! So then I factored that into my story, and this is the result. What do you think?_


	6. For Freedom's Answer

_At the very least…there is not one who desires battle right now._

–Chief of the Shandia

** Story 6: For Freedom's Answer **

"Please sit up? I can't help you do at all if you don't sit up."

No reply. But he hadn't spoken in her presence at all since his argument about having a Skypeian to tend to him, so she didn't really expect him too. What annoyed her was the fact that he did not sit up.

"Wiper-san, don't you want to get better? I have to change your bandages."

Still no response.

"Please?"

Of course, if nothing had worked so far, she shouldn't have expected begging to get across to him. But she had told herself that morning that despite the disheartening fact that he had not responded to her in the last two days, today she would change the bandages whether he liked it or not.

Conis sighed, resigning herself to the knowledge that she was going to have to do it by force. Then she narrowed her eyes with determination. She walked around to the head of the bed and lifted Wiper's head. She slipped her knees under it, positioning herself kneeling on the bed. Then, ignoring his stare, she slipped her hands beneath his shoulders and pushed.

He said nothing, but the tensing of his shoulders and jaw and the tightening of his lips told her that it hurt him. Of course it did—while all the bones in his body were hurt, those in his right shoulder were the worst by far and she was shoving on them. Conis looked down at his face from above and shook her head.

"It wouldn't be so bad if you sat up on your own," she told him gently. She was careful not to use the words 'pain' or 'hurt'. This may have been only her third day looking after him, but that didn't mean that she hadn't noticed the way he seemed to close up if it was suggested that he was in pain. He looked at her thoughtfully for a few moments, and Conis returned his look with a pleading one.

She almost expected him to say something. To her surprise, however, he simply sat up—of his own accord.

"Do what you want." His voice was gruff; almost a growl. This, naturally, did not deter Conis in the least. In fact, the simple fact that he has spoken delighted her so much that she scarcely noticed his tone. Not that her opinion would have changed if she had.

With his back facing her, Wiper couldn't see the smile of delight that spread over her face. He simply sighed, supposing that he might as well resign himself to this golden-haired girl. She was much more stubborn that he had originally given her credit for.

—————

"Wiper-san!"

The dismayed cry made Wiper bite down on his cigarette so hard that he was almost surprised that he managed to not bite it clean into two.

"I told you, Wiper-san! You can't smoke until the doctor says you're well enough!"

Wiper snorted—his way of saying 'no way am I giving up this cigarette'—as Conis looked sternly down at him.

"No, Wiper-san."

The next second, his cigarette was gone from his lips and his packet from his hand. He almost growled at the woman who had taken away his comfort, but upon registering the thought (a Shandia, a descendent of the Great Warrior Kalgara, did not need '_comfort_'), settled instead for rolling over moodily.

Wiper had had a terrible day. First, he had woken to find that he had slept in. A Shandia does not sleep in, even when wounded. And then, sick of being stuck in bed all day as he had been for the past week, he had seized an opportunity when no one was in his room and snuck away to take a walk in the forest in Upper Yard. Unfortunately, Conis had come after him and found him easily, having accurately guessed that he would be at the ruins of Shandora. Then, as if that wasn't bad enough, he couldn't hide from her because his body, not moving as powerfully as he was used to, had tripped and shot jolts of pain shooting throughout his body. Conis had run up to him and chided him for leaving the infirmary at the same time as she sympathized with his pain. Wiper could not stand sympathy, so he had shouted at her…only to find that it put him in more pain. Despite his best attempts to hide it, Conis had noticed the pain and led him gently back to the infirmary.

Conis had spent the rest of the day at his bedside—no doubt to prevent his running away again—reading. The silence did not bother him, but the glances that she threw at him every so often did. Did she think he was suddenly going to drop dead or have a seizure?

And then, when she had gone to get dinner, he had seized another opportunity—to smoke. That placed him where he was now, lying on his side and glaring at the wall.

"I'm sorry about today," came a familiar voice from behind him. He stiffened in surprise as he felt a hand on his head. The Shandia did not touch one another so familiarly, and he had endured her touch only because it was required. This was not a touch required to bandage him or apply some sort of ointment on his injuries, but a simple touch with nothing but compassion behind it.

Wiper was not used to it, but somehow, he felt himself relax under her touch.

Before he knew it, he was asleep.

—————

"What?"

Wiper's incredulous exclamation was the first word that was not a grunt that Conis had heard from him in four days. But she could not blame him for being shocked—anyone would understand his incredulous disbelief; Conis simply did not change her expression because she knew better than to show anything akin to pity to him.

"The doctor thinks that you should wear diapers."

"I heard you the first time," the warrior snapped. "_Why_ has he suddenly lost his mind?"

"He thinks you shouldn't be moving as much, and you have to move to go to the bathroom."

"The bathroom really isn't that hard to get to."

"The doctor thinks it's too far."

"No."

"No what?"

Wiper stared at the girl. Had she lost her mind, too? Had the entire infirmary gone insane?

"No I will not be subjected to that kind of treatment."

"I'll tell him you said that," said Conis. "Now eat your breakfast."

Wiper furrowed his brows and looked at the girl properly. Why wasn't she arguing about it? For the first time, he noticed that her lip was twitching as though she were trying not to laugh.

"You find this…amusing?"

There was another twitch of her lips.

"I have to struggle to keep you in this room everyday, and the bathroom is barely a few steps away; I think the doctor would be better off placing guards at every window and every door of the room."

Wiper flinched. Well, that would explain why he was having so much trouble getting any time to himself. She had noticed that he was just biding his time, waiting for another opportunity to escape. But he supposed he ought to be grateful that she was taking his side on the issue of diapers.

Conis's voice broke into his thoughts once more.

"He also thinks you should be taking naps."

"No."

Conis nodded, not failing to pick up the note of finality in his voice.

"I thought so."

Wiper thought that was the end of that issue, as well.

How wrong he was. But for that moment, he was distracted by yet another of her attempts to get him to take his medicine—something they had disagreed on since his first day there, which equated to nearly ten days.

That stuff was never entering his mouth, let alone going down his throat.

Too bad he was wrong about that, too.

—————

Wiper was feeling very, very suspicious of his lunch. It was simply not normal. Not that it had ever been normal. From the beginning, he had always been served Skypeian food: something he was not at all used to. But that didn't bother him all that much. A Shandia could not be vulnerable—that meant not only being strong of body, but strong of mind as well, able to overcome anything thrown in his or her path. New food was nothing he could not handle.

The problem was that, everyday, he would fall into a mysteriously deep sleep that would mysteriously not let up until dusk. When did he fall into this mysterious sleep? Mysteriously, it was always right after lunch.

Obviously, there was no mystery about it. At first, he had thought this a good opportunity to escape, and had simply pretended to eat lunch before pretending to go to sleep. Conis, however, was much sharper than he had given her credit for, and he found himself being scolded about eating properly. He would try to get away with one little bite, but it never worked. He always fell asleep after lunch and woke up at dusk.

So when, on the first day of the third week that he would have spent sleeping the afternoon through, Conis brought his lunch, he outright refused to eat.

"You're drugging me," was his reply to inquiries of why he would not touch it.

He was not all that surprised when Conis did not deny it (she was honest to a fault, he had noticed) and sighed instead.

"How else are we supposed to get you to take proper naps?"

"I don't need naps."

"You were healing much faster in this past week than before."

Silence.

"I'll stop putting the sleeping powder in your food if you promise to at least pretend to sleep for at least three hours after lunch."

"Three?"

"You barely sleep seven at night. You should be sleeping more than twelve. Ten is fair enough, isn't it?"

"Fine. But don't try to sneak the medicine to me like that."

Of course, Conis already knew better than to try that. Wiper seemed to have developed some sort of sense of loathing against the medicine. She knew he was sharp, and really didn't think that sneaking it to him was the best thing to do. But at least he had agreed to sleep.

What Wiper hadn't been counting on, however, was that she would bring a book and watch him like a hawk for those three hours.

So much for his three hours of freedom.

—————

"Really, Wiper-san, you have to take this medicine."

Silence.

"It will help your body to heal quickly."

Silence.

"You will be able to leave sooner if you get better sooner…"

"I _am_ better." Ah, he was talking. A step in the right direction.

"That isn't what the doctors say."

"They're wrong."

"It won't taste that bad."

Back to silence.

"Please, Wiper-san, just take it."

Silence.

"It's just a spoonful—not that much."

More silence.

"The doctors really want you to take five spoonfuls after every meal."

"No."

"Yes, that is why I'm offering you just one spoonful per day."

And they were back to silence again.

Conis huffed in an uncharacteristic show of irritation. But it was probably the fact that it was uncharacteristic of her to lose her patience and do what she did, because if he hadn't been too shocked to respond, Wiper almost certainly would have been able to stop her from sticking her hand into his mouth, yanking open his jaw, and pouring the entire contents of the bottle down his throat.

By the time Wiper was done gagging and choking in indignation, Conis had apologetically dropped the bottle into the wastebasket and begun to clean up the stray splatters and trickles of medicine on the sheets and Wiper's chin and cheeks that came from both Conis's pouring and Wiper's gagging.

As she left the room to clean the rag, Wiper could only shake his head at the thought that, while she had had that in her all along, it had taken her five full weeks of begging, cajoling, trying, and failing after every single meal of every single day before she had actively shoved the stuff down his throat.

Really, where did that woman get her inhuman patience?

…He would never, ever let anyone know that he actually _admired_ her for it. Never.

—————

Wiper snorted as he walked through the woods. He was walking over Vars, but that meant very little to him at that particular moment.

It was ridiculous. The entire situation was ridiculous! He carried the blood of the Great Warrior Kalgara!

No. He would not think about it—about her—and would live on as he always had. He would ignore all the whirling emotions, and pretend that they did not exist.

"Wiper-san!"

He closed his eyes and stopped. Of _all_ the times and places… Couldn't she wait until he had a grip on himself? Or, at least, until he wasn't thinking about _her_? But, of course, he knew the answer. He had snuck out of bed again, and the doctors still insisted that he was not completely healed. She would not leave him wandering around for long—or at all, if it had been possible—if she could help it.

And she didn't know that he thought about her anyway (and it would stay that way if he had anything to say about it), so really, the questions he asked himself in his mind were beyond absurd.

"Wiper-san," said a breathless voice as the golden-haired young woman ran up to him. Despite the fact that she was obviously out of breath—had she run all the way again?—there was a bright smile on her face. "I thought I'd never find you this time!"

Wiper did not deign to reply, but as usual, Conis paid that fact no heed. She took him by the hand, and began to walk.

Wiper followed.

Conis stopped and swung around, staring at him in pure, wide-eyed, unadulterated shock. It took a few moments for Wiper to realize that he usually resisted for at least a few moments before yielding and letting her lead him back to the infirmary.

He almost cursed his unthinking, submissive self into oblivion…but then she smiled. It was brief—fleeting—and yet it seemed to light up her face to the extent that it seemed as though they weren't in a dense forest where the sun could barely penetrate.

But it was fleeting, because the next second, Wiper had turned around and let himself be led back in the direction of Angel Island. Her smile had left his mind frozen. It was a couple minutes before he realized what had happened. And by then, it was too late to do anything but sulk. But warriors did not sulk.

So Wiper did the only thing he could think of: he let himself be dragged back with out resistance, silently cursing his infatuation in his mind. Because that's all it was—an infatuation in his mind.

…Right?

He didn't really like the answer.

—————

"Please, Wiper-san?"

"No."

"It will make you better."

"No."

"The last dose helped you a lot."

"No."

"Of course it did! You're healing much quicker now."

"No."

"The medicine is good for you."

"No."

"It really won't hurt you—you saw that last time."

"No."

Conis sighed and crossed her arms

"You took it two weeks ago."

"Only because you shoved it down my throat."

"And I'll shove it down your throat again if you don't take it!"

Wiper burst out laughing. Conis grabbed the bottle and dumped the contents down his throat.

Conis turned away, his indignant choking at her back, and smiled: he had laughed in her presence.

—————

"Wiper-san, would you move forward? I'm going to change your bandages."

Wiper's brow furrowed.

"You only change them once a week."

"Yes," Conis acknowledged.

"You just changed them three days ago," Wiper pointed out.

"I know, but…" Wiper noted that she was shifting nervously from foot to foot as though she were doing something that she was not sure she should. "There's an ointment that I've been working on… I thought it might help you."

"I don't-"

"Please?"

Normally, such pleas left Wiper unmoved. This time, however, he felt that there was more than concern for his wellbeing behind the plea. He looked back on her words, wondering if she had meant…

"Did you make it yourself?"

Conis nodded, not meeting his eyes. He only hesitated a moment before answering.

"Fine." He sat up.

Wiper didn't need to turn around to know that Conis's face had lit up in delight. When she finished unwrapping the bandages, Wiper tensed, expecting something to sting.

Instead, the ointment that her soft fingers spread across his back was surprisingly cool and soothing.

Conis noted the loosening of his muscles and smiled. Though Wiper did not know, she had grown accustomed to his lack of words that told her how he felt, and could read when he was in pain and when he was relaxed. She had made this salve specifically with Wiper in mind. He had reacted better to this ointment than any other medicine, and the thought brought a wide smile to her face.

Not that she would have dared to let Wiper see the boundless delight on her face. But while his back was to her, she allowed herself to bask in silent elation.

—————

"Time for your medicine."

"What? The same one that you forced down my throat twice?"

"Yes." Really, what other medicine did she ever give him? Apart from the ointment, of course. But he seemed to not mind that one—even like it—so that did not really enter the count.

"You already forced it down my throat twice!"

"And the last time was two weeks ago. You need it again."

"You use the ointment on me. I don't need the medicine."

"It's much more helpful than the ointment."

"It's much worse than the ointment."

"It will help your body to heal."

"…"

"Would you like it forced down your throat again?"

There was silence, but it was accompanied by an incredulous stare. It was one thing for Conis to shove the stuff down his throat; it was quite another for her to threaten him with the atrocity so calmly. Wasn't she more compassionate than this? At least when she had said something along those lines last time, it had been in a fit of frustration.

"I refuse to take it."

"I will make sure that you take it within the day, Wiper-san." Wiper snorted, and the day went on as usual.

Five hours later, the medicine remained unconsumed and the sun was setting. The doctor was in his room, lecturing him about something (he wasn't listening, of course). The doctor seemed to realize this after a while, and sighed, shook his head, and turned away to the tray of medicine that Wiper would not take. Knowing that the doctor was going to try (for about ten minutes before he finally gave up) to make him take some of them, Wiper yawned.

And found a terrible, horrible, atrocious liquid that he was already much more familiar with than he wanted to be sliding down his throat against his will. Through the routine choking, Wiper called Conis a number of unpleasant names that she ignored. The doctor was staring at Conis, having turned around at the sound of the first choke—early enough to see Conis pulling the now-empty-but-previously-completely-full bottle of medicine away.

"I have to say that I would normally object to that sort of treatment of a patient," the doctor said, shaking his head in awe, "but given the circumstances, I admire you for this. Do you think you could do the same with some more of these?"

Wiper turned to stare at Conis in horror; Conis, however, shook her head apologetically.

"I'm sorry, doctor. Actually, I do not do this very often. Only when I feel it is necessary, since this medicine works well. But I really don't approve of giving him medicine against his will…"

The doctor sighed.

"I suppose I should have known that you would say that…but it was worth a try. It's good to know that at least one medicine is finding its way into his body." Shaking his head and carrying the tray, the doctor left.

"That was a lie," Wiper accused Conis after the doctor had left.

"What?"

"You intend to keep up a routine of getting that stuff down my throat every two weeks, don't you?"

Conis smiled apologetically.

"I don't like to force you to drink it, Wiper-san, but it really is remarkably helpful." Wiper couldn't deny that.

"You won't manage next time," he growled, turning over.

He heard Conis's giggle behind him, and inwardly knew that she was right—she would more likely win these battles over the consumption of the medicine than he.

But why?

That was another question that he preferred not to answer.

—————

"Why do you bother arguing with me?" she asked out of the blue. She was changing his bandages, and did not look up from her task as she spoke. In fact, when Wiper glanced down at Conis in surprise, he got the distinct impression that she was deliberately avoiding meeting his eyes.

"Why not?" he grunted, feigning disinterest.

"Because at you never argued with me at first, and you still never argue with the doctors. You'd just say 'no' once, and then glare or roll over and refuse to answer no matter what we said. Even with your friends, you never argue more than absolutely necessary."

Wiper raised an eyebrow. What she said was true enough.

"And?" he urged when she didn't continue.

"And…you've started arguing with me. You never try to glare or turn your back to end my arguments anymore. You actually argue."

Wiper stared down at her incredulously. Did he? …Yes. Yes, he did, didn't he?

"I'll glare next time, then," he grunted, pulling away in irritation as she finished binding the new bandages. He lay back on his bed, turning his back to her.

"No…that's not…" If that wasn't what she meant, what did she want? "It's nice, having you acknowledge that I'm here."

Wiper's eyes widened in surprise. Conis only saw his back stiffen. Sighing, she turned.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly before leaving the room.

Wiper scowled in irritation, not moving. Wasn't it obvious? He didn't argue with the others because no matter what they said he wouldn't change his mind anyway; he argued with her because if he didn't, his will would crumble at some point. At some embarrassingly early point, actually.

Hadn't she just pointed out herself that he never argued anymore than absolutely necessary?

—————

"I'm well, now."

"But the doctor says you shouldn't be walking around outside…"

"The doctor thought that my bones would keep me in bed for a year. It's been twelve weeks, and I'm already able to walk."

"Yes…but…"

"But?"

Conis averted her eyes and said nothing. Wiper sighed and fell back into bed. He should have known. What had possessed him to ask Conis if he could go out, anyway? He should have just snuck out as he usually did. And yet…he couldn't bring himself to do so. He knew that she worried, and she always came after him anyway. But if he got her permission…

He admitted to himself that whatever this was—infatuation or otherwise—it wasn't good for his sanity. Now he wouldn't be able to get out for another few days, since she now knew that he wanted to get out and would hence keep a much closer watch over him.

But his attention was diverted from his thoughts when Conis looked up, a determined look on her face.

"If we just walk through the front doors and look like we belong there, I'm sure no one will bother us."

"Wha…" But just as he registered that she was agreeing to his walk, his brain registered something else. "You mean to say that you mean to come _with_ me?"

"Of course," said Conis distractedly as she gathered up a small bag of various tools and medicines lying around on the tables. "I couldn't let you out alone with the knowledge that one wrong move could damage you horribly. Besides," she smiled up at him, "If I go with you, I'm sure that the doctor won't object, even if he finds out."

However grudgingly, Wiper had to agree.

—————

"The Shandia have finished building their village in Upper Yard."

"Hm."

"We have finished our repairs on Angel Island, too."

"I see."

"There has been talk of establishing a residence area on Upper Yard for us Skypeians as well, but the subject is still under debate, since we have not yet found an unoccupied area large enough to build such a thing. And we wish to avoid the destruction of anything there."

"Oh."

"A little girl named Aisa came this morning, and said to give you these flowers."

"Okay."

"Wiper-san, could you please reply to what I'm saying?"

"I am."

"I'm trying to start a conversation, Wiper-san."

"I guessed."

"One or two syllable replies don't make a conversation."

"I know."

Conis sighed, trying her best to hide her frustration.

"Is this your idea of a conversation, or are you deliberately trying to make me angry?" Conis tried to make the question sound as civil as possible.

Truthfully, it was a little bit of both, but the smirk that tugged at Wiper's lips suggested otherwise to Conis. She picked up her book and began to read, attempting to force down the frustration.

Why did this one Shandia always get her so irritated when she was usually so calm?

She knew the answer, actually—had known for a few weeks, in fact—but preferred not to think about it. Particularly in front of Wiper—if her cheeks heated up, he might be clued in to what she was thinking, and that was not something that she wanted.

What she did not know, however, was that Wiper would not have noticed, because he himself was struggling to hide from himself the reason why he so enjoyed irritating Conis.

—————

"This is absurd!" growled Wiper as he caught Conis around the waist for the fourth time.

Conis was a bright red, though whether it was from being held so closely to Wiper or from embarrassment at how she was the one in need of help when she was supposed to be helping _him_ was impossible to tell. Once he saw that she had her balance again, Wiper released her.

"I'm sorry… I'm just not used to walking in the forest like this…"

"You were the one who wanted to come here," grumbled Wiper. Conis went even redder.

"Well…there are certain herbs that I heard could be useful for your burns, and I thought that maybe I could find them in Upper Yard, since they don't appear to by anywhere on Angle Island…"

"I'm well."

"I know, but…a little bit of improvement couldn't hurt… Oh! Right there! I think it must be…" Conis trailed off, running away from Wiper towards the plant in question, too excited for him to reason with. He sighed, resigned, and followed.

Over the past few weeks, they had gotten into the habit of taking walks to satisfy his need to be out in the open, and lessen the frustration that accumulated when he was kept indoors for a long period of time. This, however, was the first time that they were making their way through the wild, pathless, overgrown forest of Upper Yard. While Wiper, used to fighting in such areas, had no problem in avoiding the undergrowth, but Conis regularly caught her foot on weeds and vines and almost crashed to the ground.

Wiper watched from the edge of the path as Conis tripped (yet again) in her haste, but managed to regain her balance on her own this time before continuing and reaching the plants without any further difficulty.

"It is!" Conis exclaimed in delight as she compared it with a picture in the book that she had brought with her.

Wiper watched as she removed a cloth from her bag and wet it with a few drops of water from her water pouch. Then she picked some of the leaves, choosing them carefully, and then placing them on the wetted cloth before her with just as much care. She then folded the cloth to enclose the leaves before putting the whole thing back into her bag.

"That should hold until we get back," she smiled at Wiper as she stood.

He watched as she made her slow, careful way back towards the path, trying not to trip this time. She was succeeding in not tripping, but was (in his opinion) wasting time in the process.

Wiper sighed.

Conis gave a startled squeak when she suddenly felt hard, thick, muscular arms behind her back and her knees. It took a few moments before it registered in her mind that Wiper and scooped her into his arms and was now carrying her as easily as if she were a feather. …A very large feather, but a feather all the same.

"W- Wiper-san… I can walk…" Her voice was rather weak, and she knew that her face was flaming.

"Either you'll try to go quickly and you'll trip or you'll try to not trip and go much too slowly. This is faster and safer." Was that a blush on his cheeks? It was very, very faint, but she was sure that it was a shade pinker than usual…

"But Wiper-san," Conis protested, shoving the thought out of her mind, "You're the injured one… I'm supposed to be taking care of-"

"You're the one who needs taking care of, not me."

Wiper hadn't meant the words to come out so harshly, but Conis turned her head away and stopped arguing, so he supposed that he had accomplished his goal.

—————

Wiper was the leading warrior among the Shandia, and carried the blood of the Great Warrior Kalgara. He had been trained to be strong and take back his homeland since a young age, and naturally viewed Skypeians as the enemy. He was unmatched in battle, and the only one who had ever managed to defeat him had been Enel. He was proud, strong, and willful—everything a warrior of Shandora should be.

That very same Wiper was now helpless over a single Skypeian girl.

Ever since that excursion into the forest of Upper Yard a week ago, Conis had been very distant. She only came when necessary, and no longer spent her time at his side, just sitting there with a book to make sure that he rested. At first, he had felt that he had been released. But after a few days of her not even starting up any conversation with him, he was beginning to feel unsettled.

Currently, he was staring at the door, just waiting for her to walk in with his breakfast.

The door opened and Conis stepped in, balancing the tray in one hand as she closed the door with the other.

Wiper knew that she would leave just as soon as she put down the tray, so he decided to get it over with.

"I'm sorry." He winced at the way it sounded—he had never done this before, but he hadn't expected to sound so…_weak_.

The tray clattered to the floor and dishes smashed, but Conis just stood there, staring at him with wide eyes.

"W…what?"

"I shouldn't have said what I did at Upper Yard." He didn't want to say the other two words again. "They hurt you, and that was not my intention."

Conis stared for a few more moments before averting her eyes.

"What makes you think that you hurt me?"

Wiper hesitated before he answered.

"You don't stay here very long anymore, nor do you come except when necessary. I assumed that I had driven you away."

Conis hastily shook her head.

"No, Wiper-san, not at all, I just…" She glanced at him, and then cast her eyes downwards again. "I thought you would be more content if I weren't in your vicinity."

"I…"

Conis looked up curiously as Wiper trailed off, and was shocked to see that not only was he averting his eyes to the wall, but that he was blushing faintly as well.

"I enjoy your company," Wiper finally said.

A slow smile came to Conis's lips.

"I enjoy yours, as well," she said quietly. Wiper's eyes shot up. They met hers, and he saw that she was smiling softly.

Conis leaned down.

"I'm sorry…I've ruined your breakfast… I'll go get another just as soon as I clean this up."

Conis was not all that surprised to find Wiper helping her pick up the pieces of broken dishes and put them into the garbage can. He hated being immobile and helpless, after all. Never did it cross her mind—except in what she deemed 'wishful thinking'—that he did so out of a personal desire to help her.

When she came back a short while later, Wiper recognized the tray in her hands as her own breakfast tray. He raised an eyebrow, and it rose even higher when she placed it beside him.

"This is yours," he pointed out.

"They don't have any extra," Conis explained. "Since it was my fault that yours was wasted, you can eat this."

"I can live without a meal," Wiper told her, pushing the tray her way. "It's yours."

Conis shook her head insistently.

"You need the food," she told him firmly. "I won't deprive you of food."

For once, Wiper was the one to come to the solution.

"We'll each have half."

Conis stared at him for a few moments. She contemplated asking what he meant, but was sure that he would simply repeat the same sentence over again.

"I'll get another spoon then."

—————

Half awake, Wiper attempted to pull the warm thing in his arms closer. It wouldn't budge, however, and he opened his eyes in irritation.

Wiper blinked.

What was Conis doing on his bed? With her book? Fast asleep?

He looked around, trying to find the answer somewhere in the room. Nothing in the room offered any explanation.

Then he noticed the bags under her eyes, and recalled that she had arrived that morning before dawn, and then had helped out with some other patients as well as himself. He guessed that she had sat down on his bed to read some of her book before going to sleep, and then had proceeded to fall asleep without realizing.

Wiper contemplated waking her, but quickly decided against it. She needed her sleep, and by now he knew her well enough to know that if he woke her, she would walk all the way home (a good half hour walk, as he had found on one of their morning walks) and then probably find some work to finish there again before she went to sleep. Then she would have to wake before dawn again to help all those other patients that she had agreed to help.

Sighing, Wiper slipped out of the covers and slid down to the foot of the bed. Sitting there, he slipped off her shoes and lifted her legs properly onto the bed. Then he gently pulled the covers out from under her and placed them over her.

He stood and headed for the wall. And then he stopped, realizing that Conis would throw a fit in the morning if she found him sleeping sitting on the floor against the wall. That wouldn't be good—she was already under enough stress as it was. And she would probably react only marginally better if she found him sleeping in the hard wooden chair.

Wiper sighed. If he wanted to keep her from being stressed, he had only one option—the bed. But Conis was already in it, and she would no doubt throw a fit of a different sort if she woke to find them in the same bed.

Then again, he had woken with her sleeping in his arms…

Wiper decided it wouldn't be so bad if he slept atop the covers, and slipped back into bed beside Conis, hoping desperately that there was no sort of nightly watchman who peeked into every room to make sure that the patients were well.

—————

"You shouldn't be working so hard."

"What?"

"You're working too hard. You're stressed."

"I'm fine, Wiper-san, really! I'm just not used to helping so many people with so many different things at-"

Conis broke off with a gasp of surprise as Wiper caught her wrist and tugged, causing her to land, sitting, on the bed beside him. To her surprise, his hands moved immediately to her shoulders, where they began to gently knead the muscles.

"See?" Wiper told her softly—gently. "Your muscles are too tense. You're stressed."

"Really, Wiper-san, I can handle-"

"You can, I'm sure, but you're still stressed."

"But if I don't…"

"Then you'll be less stressed. You don't have to do everything requested of you, Conis."

Conis spun around, eyes wide. She didn't seem to realize that their faces were mere inches apart as she stared in shock at the Shandia.

"What?"

"I said," said Wiper, irritated that something so simple was so shocking to her, "You don't have to-"

"No," Conis shook her head. "You… Wiper-san, you said my name."

Wiper blinked. Now that she mentioned it…he had, hadn't he? They had spent eighteen weeks together, and he had never called her by name.

A slow smile spread across her face, and he couldn't help the upward twitch of the corners of his mouth in response.

"So I did."

"I suppose I could ask them to let me have a few less patients to care for…"

"Good."

—————

"What's the book you bring everyday?"

Conis looked only mildly surprised at the fact that Wiper had spoken to her.

"It's on healing," Conis smiled.

"Why?" Wiper furrowed his brows. "Aren't you already a healer?"

Conis turned to look at him in curious surprise. She had been caring for him for twenty weeks, and yet he didn't know?

"Hasn't anyone mentioned it?" Hadn't she mentioned it? Apparently not.

Wiper stared, his eyes communicating that he had no idea what she was talking about. "I'm not a healer. I live with my father, actually, and he's an engineer. We both live on his money. But I was thinking that I ought to get a job soon…and that was when the battle happened. They needed help on the battlefield, of course, so I helped. Then they found that I was the only one who was…um…" Conis trailed off in search of the right word, and her cheeks began to redden.

Wiper could guess what she was thinking, and snorted.

"Willing to deal with me?"

She shook her head hastily.

"No! I mean, plenty of people were willing to help you. You saved us all, after all." This comment was accompanied by a smile. "It was just that no one else _could_ help you."

Wiper blinked. What did she…?

But now that he thought back, initially, Conis hadn't been the only one attempting to help him. There had been Skypeian and Shandia volunteers and healers alike. But he had been unwilling to accept the assistance of a Skypeian, and unwilling to display any sort of helplessness to a Shandia.

And now that he thought back…

"You were the only one who went on trying day after day." And the only one who had resorted to shoving him up when he would not sit up on his own.

"Someone had to." Conis's voice was quiet, and she looked rather ashamed of herself. Wiper was suddenly overcome by a wave of unfamiliar emotions: gratitude, regret, and the desire to take her into his arms and tell her that there was nothing to be ashamed of.

Wiper shuddered internally at his own thoughts. And he called himself a Shandia? He would have to do something about all this.

"When will I be leaving?"

Wiper missed the regretful dropping of Conis's voice as she replied, "The doctor says that with your rapid healing, you should be well enough to leave in two weeks, though he recommends that you stay a few weeks longer." Conis knew that he would not stay a single minute longer than necessary.

Wiper felt nothing other than relief at that statement. Once he got away, he would be able to help the village rebuild, and he would be back in time to assist with the harvest, though he had missed the planting—the first crops to be grown on Vars by the Shandia in four hundred years. He would be able to forget this silly attachment to the Skypeian girl.

Wiper did not realize that he had shoved away and refused to even acknowledge a sting of regret at the thought that he would probably never spend more than a few minutes in passing with Conis again.

"So, the book…"

"Oh," said Conis, the smile returning to her face. "Actually, I have found that I enjoy helping people like this in the infirmary. I'm studying to become a healer."

Wiper raised an eyebrow. Conis as a healer…she would be better than most. She had made that ointment for him fairly early on, and it was the only medicine that he accepted.

He didn't realize he had said that out loud until he saw a wide smile break out on her face and her cheeks grow pink. For some reason, he could scarcely curse himself for saying the words out loud while he was looking at her face—those words were the cause of her smile, after all.

—————

"I suppose that this is goodbye, then, Wiper-san."

"Yes. I suppose it is."

Conis smiled, but it did not reach her eyes.

"Here…" She placed a jar in his hand—he recognized it as her herbal ointment, though the color was slightly different from usual. "If your shoulder starts aching again, rub this on it. I made it a little different this time so it would be more soothing, though its healing properties are slightly weaker."

Wiper snorted.

"I thought I told the doctor-"

"The doctor didn't say so," Conis interrupted. Wiper was interested to note that her cheeks were flushing red. "Actually, the doctor told me to tell you to take home three pills to be taken after every meal for another month in addition to that medicine, as well as cold pads to place on your shoulder every morning. I told him you wouldn't take the medicine or pills…"

Realization struck Wiper. The ointment wasn't the doctor's idea—in fact, Conis had probably never even told him about it. That part had been Conis all along; and now, the one giving him the ointment and basically telling him that its usage was optional was Conis—no one else, just Conis. And it was made more for his comfort than anything.

Wiper found himself reaching out and touching her cheek before he knew what he was doing. He opened his mouth to say something, but found himself at a loss for words. He slowly stroked her soft cheek with his calloused thumb. His eyes never left hers. Her eyes were wide with surprise at first, but they soon drifted shut and Wiper saw a smile tug at her lips as he felt her face lean into his touch.

He froze, staring down at her. Suddenly, with utmost clarity, he fully understood the emotion that had been coiling, slowly growing, within him for the past five months. Her eyes opened and looked up at him. Wiper tried to read them. How did she feel of him? Was he simply the Shandia patient that she had pitied because no one else could help? Was he merely her first patient on her journey to becoming a healer?

But while her eyes were kind, gentle, and smiling, Wiper could not read them. He lowered his eyes and his hand, accepting the jar of ointment from her.

"Thank you."

Wiper used the ointment that night, though his shoulder was not so painful that he could not bear it. There was no difference in the soothing coolness of the ointment; the rough calluses of his fingers, however, felt wrong rubbing it into his shoulder. He knew that he wanted soft, gentle fingers—and not just anyone's soft, gentle fingers, but _her_ soft, gentle fingers—doing the job.

And he could not even find it in himself to curse himself for the thought.

—————

When Aisa came running up to her that day, she didn't know what to expect. Maybe she had found a new animal? Over the past few months during which they had begun to live on the Vars, Aisa had taken to exploring, often returning with some sort of new animal, the likes of which none of the Shandia (and, generally, the Skypeians too) had ever seen before. In fact, she had even befriended the giant serpent that, according to Gan Fall (now known as God), Wiper, and Aisa herself all claimed had eaten her and the captain of the crew from the Blue Sea during the final battle.

But the look on Aisa's face now was not one of luminous delight of a new discovery that she took on when she had discovered something new and rare. It was a look of mischievous delight, as though she had been up to (or was about to do) something that she should not have been doing.

Laki frowned down at her little cousin, but Aisa paid the frown no heed. In fact, the little girl skipped around her legs as though it was a totem pole.

"Guess what?" chirped Aisa. Laki waited a moment, expecting Aisa to go on without a reply. To her surprise, however, the girl looked up at her with twinkling eyes, awaiting an answer.

"What?" she asked, not rebuking the girl for interrupting the harvest, even though the occasion was a very important one—the first harvest to be done on Vars rather than cloud.

"No, you have to guess!" Aisa told her, looking up at her expectantly. Laki continued her work as she furrowed her brows in thought.

"Did you find a new animal?" Aisa pouted and shook her head 'no'. Laki took this to mean that she was very far off.

"Did Wiper agree to play with you?" she tried again, recalling that Aisa had made it a (so far unsuccessful) personal mission to get Wiper to play with her ever since he had gotten out of the infirmary. But Aisa shook her head with another pout.

"It's about you!" Aisa told her. Laki's eyebrows shot up.

"Me?"

"Uh-huh! Guess!"

Laki blinked, her mind drawing a blank. However, Aisa apparently lost her patience waiting, because she finally gave a giggle and a hop.

"You're getting married!" And with that said, Aisa rushed off.

Laki blinked, wondering if she should be questioning her cousin's sanity, since there was absolutely no question about her honesty (something about being able to feel the hurt and betrayal with her Mantra when someone was lied to). She shrugged and went back to her harvesting.

Whatever it was, she was sure that there was some sort of misunderstanding or misinterpretation involved somewhere.

So when she got home that night, the incident very far from her mind, and her aunt asked casually over supper preparations when the wedding would be, she dropped the egg she had been holding and gaped.

It didn't help that her aunt only smiled, told her there was no need to be shy, and then sighed, "Ah, young love…"

—————

To say that Wiper was baffled would have been an understatement. One moment he was waging his internal battle (the same one that he had been waging for the past month, ever since he had gotten out of that blasted infirmary) and the next there was some rumor in the village about Laki getting married that left Laki baffled and him uncaring, but then people walking by him in the village were winking at him and slapping him on the back, wishing him good luck.

Questions of what they meant were met with laughs and comments about his shyness; protests that he really had no idea what was going on were only met with more laughs. All he got was some rubbish about a 'wedding'. Honestly, a wedding? To whom? Of course, _he_ knew that he had been wanting to court Conis, but he had not acted on it and was still debating whether or not to do so, so how could they know?

Besides, the way they were acting, one would think that they thought that he was going to marry a Shandia woman… Maybe the entire village _had_ gone insane, just like Laki had said.

Realization struck him like a ton of bricks. Was it Laki? Had this rumor that he was getting married originated from the rumor that Laki was betrothed, though she appeared to know nothing about the matter?

Wiper furrowed his brow, digging through his memory to find the person he had heard the rumor from initially. …He couldn't remember very clearly (his mind had been occupied by the issue of Conis), but he was pretty sure that it had been when he had been talking with Kamakiri (or, more accurately, Kamakiri had been talking _to_ him) when Laki had come up and asked them about something strange that she had heard from…Aisa?

Yes, that would make sense. That girl had a tendency to get into much more trouble than she was worth. But she was also terribly honest—most of the time, at least.

Wiper stood and headed for the door. Regardless of the fact that most people were in the middle of supper, he had a mission.

Only, when he opened the door, he found a familiar young woman standing here, hand positioned to knock. They stared at each other in surprise for a few moments before Conis stepped in.

"Wiper-san, I…" Suddenly, her face went bright red and she averted her eyes. "I just wanted to see how you were doing."

He should have been happy to see her there again, but well fondness welled up in his chest, it was overridden by anxiety. It was almost imperceptible, but something was wrong. The whites of her eyes were tinted ever so slightly pinker than usual; her smile did not quite reach her eyes; the way her hands locked together was a sign that she was not at ease.

"Conis." His voice came out slightly harsher than he had intended, but he did not dwell on it. He caught her chin in his hand and lifted her face so that his eyes would meet hers.

However, she averted them after a brief moment of eye contact.

"What's the matter?" he asked softly, almost a whisper.

To his shock and alarm, her eyes began to fill with tears. For a moment, he froze, not knowing what to do. But when her hands rose to his chest and she attempted to pull away and escape, shaking her head violently, he knew that he was not going to let her go without an explanation.

He wound an arm securely around her waist and closed the door of his one-room house to allow them some privacy.

He sat on the floor as was the way of the Shandia and pulled Conis into his lap, cradling her gently. Suddenly, it didn't matter that his 'crazy infatuation' was stronger than he had thought and sucking all rational thought and sanity from him once again. It didn't even matter that he was holding her in a way that was normally completely inappropriate for an unmarried Shandia and a girl who was not his betrothed. All that mattered was that something was bothering her much more than he had ever seen anything bothering her, and that he cared.

"Conis, what is it?" he tried again. He ran a hand over her hair and pulled her to him as comfortingly as he knew how.

"I… I'm sorry, Wiper-san," Conis choked out, and Wiper knew that she was struggling to hold back tears. "I meant to just ask a question and leave…but…"

"What question?" Wiper was struggling to hide the extent of his concern.

There was a long pause as Conis struggled with herself. Then: "You're betrothed."

The words surprised Wiper as much as the tone. It was a statement, not a question, and he could tell that her voice was concealing pain.

Wiper stared down at Conis in silence.

Somehow, that rumor that was rubbish had reached the Angel Island…Conis had heard it…and she was hurt by it. But that meant…

Suddenly, Conis felt Wiper's arms tighten around her as he burst into laughter and buried his face into her hair.

"Wiper-san?" Conis was shocked and attempted to push out of his arms, but she could not. And he just went on laughing. "Wiper-san, you really should let go—you're betrothed!"

Wiper's laughter died down, and when he looked down into her pleading eyes, she was shocked to see that his eyes were dancing with mirth—she had never seen him that way before, and wasn't too sure what to think of it.

"I'm not," Wiper told her. "Unless, of course, you want to wed me."

Conis stared. Wiper blinked. Had he actually said that aloud? So he liked her a little too much—okay, much too much—to be called a friend, but even in the event that he ended up courting her, that most certainly wasn't the way that he had intended to do it.

Conis continued to stare as Wiper's face flushed. At that moment, she knew that while he had not meant to say the words, they were completely sincere. But…

"But…I thought you were betrothed…?"

Wiper shrugged, unconcerned.

"Yes, I heard the rumor too. I probably know less about it than you do."

"You mean…" Conis said slowly, "It doesn't have any truth in it…?"

Wiper shook his head, cheeks reddening as he spoke.

"I know I've been thinking of courting you this past month, but I never told anyone and obviously haven't acted on it."

"Until now," said Conis, dazed. "I can't believe…all this time, I thought you just…I thought you just saw me as a Skypeian, and I'd be lucky to be your friend, and I was sure that I was right when I never heard from you, and thought I would just forget, but then I heard the rumor, and I couldn- Mmph!"

Wiper pulled away, and could not resist a chuckle at her bright red face and wide eyes. A small smile slowly made its way to Conis's lips, and Wiper felt his heart leap in his chest.

He tightened his arms, and Conis leaned against his chest. He laid his cheek on her hair.

They said no more, and merely sat in comfortable silence, basking in each other's presence. A month apart had done more to their desire for each other's company than they had realized.

—————

One week after the village of the Shandia was met with the shocking—and confusing, considering the rumors about Wiper and Laki—news that Wiper, the one who hated Skypeians above all, was betrothed to a Skypeian girl leaked out mysteriously (not that there was anything mysterious about it—if something that no one should have known was brought almost immediately into the open, one could generally assume that it was Aisa's doing), the truth of the entire puzzling matter came to light.

People knew that Aisa always told the truth, so when she came running about with a fact, everyone believed her. Which was why a certain man had told Aisa that Laki was going to marry Wiper rather than anyone else.

Of course, within hours Aisa had told everyone close to her, and within the day the entire village knew. That hadn't been enough for her, so she had proceeded to Angel Island, and within three days, the news was all throughout Skypeia.

It didn't seem to bother the little girl that neither Laki nor Wiper seemed to have a clue about the supposed betrothal, because, after all, Laki's father would know that his own daughter was getting married, right?

As it turned out, however, Wiper had ignored the rumors and gotten himself betrothed to another girl, and then the Shandia had questioned the rumors. Where had they started? Why were they so far off the mark?

But with everything now straightened out, everyone breathed a sigh of relief…

Until they turned around to see Kamakiri swinging Laki around in the air. Apparently, there were more explanations yet to come.

_Author's Notes: For the record, I didn't come up with this pairing. Here's my story: I was having trouble finding a well-written Japanese fan fic, and I was wishing I could find something to rival a certain Kohza/Vivi story that I thought was actually believable (my jaw dropped, I was in such awe of it). That author had nothing else except a page that was under construction that I couldn't access and a bunch of Wiper/Conis fics. So, I figured, I might not really support the Wiper/Conis pairing, but a well-written story is one that you can read even if you don't like the main couple. So I read it. Next thing I knew, I'd converted to Wiper/Conis and read it thrice in a row._

I think this is the first of this pairing on the site (if you know of any others, please, tell me! I'd love to read any!). So now, more than ever, I want to know what you think. Were they out of character, do you think? (I don't think they were, judging from the end of the Skypeia arc.) But I want to know so badly that I'll bribe you, too: if you review, I'll send you a few little extras that were originally written for this, but then eliminated. A 'deleted scenes' feature of sorts, including three other endings I threw away (can you tell I had trouble with the ending?), some scenes following this story, and some scenes that I threw away during Wiper's stay in the infirmary. If you're an anonymous reviewer, just leave your address and I'll send it there; if you're a user, I'll paste and copy into the review reply. Even if you don't mention these 'deleted scenes' in your review, I'll send them to you anyway; if you review but don't want them, then tell me so in your review and I won't send them.


	7. These Will Never Cease

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing recognizable from One Piece as far as chapter 459 or from the anime.

_Will passed on; the passage of ages; people's dreams:_

_These are things that cannot be stopped._

_As long as people continue to seek freedom's answer,_

_These will never cease!_

–Pirate King Gol D. Roger

**Story 7: These Will Never Cease**

It had been a long time since Cutty Flam, more commonly known as Franky these days, had experienced a real 'friendship'.

He supposed that the closest thing he had to that was either his relationship with Iceburg, or his relationship with Yokozuna. But Iceburg was what some people would call a brother, maybe, considering the way they seemed to yell at each other half the time and yet understood each other better than anyone else the rest of the time. And Yokozuna was…well, not human. Not that species should be a barrier to any relationship. It was just that there were some things that didn't really go across species very well. Like words. And certain emotions.

Then there was Franky Family. It bore his name, and had approximately fifty members. But the fifty members were all subordinates to Franky, and not what one would call 'friends'. He had never really stood on equal footing with them. He had honestly been an elder brother to them, listening to their problems, avenging them whenever anyone hurt them, saving them when they were in trouble, feeding them… The list went on. But the fact remained that they were not and had never been equals to Franky, and hence were not what he could call 'friends'.

So being with the Straw Hats was slightly unnerving at first.

Even with the Straw Hats, of course, there was a sort of hierarchy: in times of crisis, Luffy's orders were absolute, and where Luffy was unavailable, Zoro was in charge. When sailing, Nami was in charge. In the kitchen, Sanji was in charge. When someone was hurt or sick, Chopper was in charge. If there were any damage inflicted on the ship, Franky realized, he would be in charge where that was concerned. Still, throughout all this, Luffy was still in charge—and Zoro when Luffy was unavailable, no matter what Usopp might say—as long as he didn't say anything too absurd.

And so, obviously, by normal ways of thinking, there ought to be a hierarchy with Luffy on top, Zoro a step below him, and everyone else a step below Zoro.

But that was not the way it went. Luffy and Zoro were always on equal footing with everyone else. Luffy goofed around with Usopp and Chopper, bugged Zoro until Zoro snapped at him that he needed sleep, pestered Nami until she shoved him out of the way, and invaded the kitchen no matter how many times Sanji literally kicked him out. And, of course, now he would goof around with Franky, too.

Zoro was, on an everyday basis, not much of an authority figure. Usopp and Chopper pestered him, Luffy (and Franky, who had found this to be a very entertaining pastime) bugged him, Nami clobbered him, and he fought with Sanji every given chance.

In short, they were all friends.

Franky had known this perfectly well when he had joined the Straw Hats. But actually being with them, and knowing that Luffy stood above him and yet at equal footing at the same time was actually harder to adjust to than he had thought.

But everyone treated him as if he had always been there. He received no special treatment; no kind introduction to the way things were. Once he joined them, he was one of them, and that was that. No more, no less.

At first, he had tried to figure out how to respect Luffy and be his friend at the same time, as the other Straw Hats did. Yet the more he thought about it, the more he couldn't figure it out, and the more his head ached.

So he stopped thinking. He just let go and let things be as they were, and found that suddenly, everything was a whole lot easier.

If he entered the kitchen and was too loud, too nosy, or had the nerve to try and steal food, he got kicked out quite literally and painfully by the fuming cook. But if he stayed calm and quiet, followed the unspoken law that Sanji was in charge in the kitchen, and did as he was told, he could have quite nice conversations with the sensible (when no females were in the vicinity, anyway) cook.

If he decided to speak with Nami, he was not to criticize her ways unless he wanted a thorough clobbering (something that he went out of his way to avoid—he had not missed the way that she had lifted a needle and looked pointedly at his back the other day when he had dared defy her). But so long he did as she said and didn't bother her while she was making her maps, she was fascinated by the ways of the ship and would listen for hours on end as he explained the basics of ship building to her. At least, he believed she would have, if it hadn't been for the fact that thirty minutes of being able to sit and talk without some crisis occurring was an amazing feat in itself on the Thousand Sunny.

Chopper was, in short, adorable. The extent of his sweet tooth was astounding, and Franky took (perverse) pleasure in dangling a sweet in front of him and bribing him into doing things. He could be made to cause amusement, such as poking Nami on the foot and running away before she knew what had happened, as well as useful tasks, such as stealing some small article of food for him (not that Franky couldn't have done it himself—he just preferred to be cautious).

Franky admired Usopp for the small courage he had—he actually stole food from the kitchen on a regular basis—and the dedication that he had displayed for the Going Merry. But at the same time, he rolled his eyes at the boy's pride—which had resulted in both the creation of SogeKing and the tension that had befallen the Straw Hats until their departure from Water Seven. He had heard some of the absurd tales that Usopp told Chopper, however, and while he thought that Usopp was a good storyteller, that emotion was insignificant in comparison with his astonishment that Chopper actually _believed_ each and every story that Usopp told him.

Nico Robin was quiet, and generally sat around reading. She had an unnerving tendency to speak calmly of the terrifying, however, and she was moved by very little. But she was a good companion in battle, Franky had found. Her calm judgment was actually quite useful.

Roronoa Zoro…Franky didn't really know what to think of. The man was fierce and seemingly unbeatable in battle, and spent his free time either sleeping or training. He sort of lacked a life, in Franky's opinion.

Monkey D. Luffy Franky could make even less sense of. One moment he was spouting nonsensical junk, and the next second he astounded everyone with logic so amazing and clear and sensible that it rendered every other member of the Straw Hat Pirates speechless.

Franky supposed that that was part of why he loved being on the Thousand Sunny so much. Not one person onboard was ordinary, and hence things were never boring.

He grinned to himself as he rolled over to go to sleep.

He had dreamed of his Dream Ship all his life; now he was learning that maybe, just maybe, he could treasure the people on that Dream Ship far more than the ship itself.

In light of his thoughts, the whispers in the room that he could not make out seemed insignificant.

——————————

When Nico Robin had joined the Straw Hat Pirates, she had thought of them as no more than her next hideaway. They had been fairly amusing to face in Alabasta—she had had more fun watching them than she had had in years—so she had figured that being with them ought to be entertaining while it lasted.

Joining them had been fairly easy. She had watched them in Alabasta, and knew well enough that as long as Monkey D. Luffy consented, she had no need to worry about the others. They might object at first, but if their captain was adamant, they would sigh and resign themselves to whatever it was that he had decided.

She had been slightly worried about gaining Luffy's consent, however. He had once declared that he didn't like her and had therefore refused her helping hand, regardless of his comrades' insistence that she could potentially be helpful. And Luffy was inconsistent. Never exactly predictable. Just when she thought she had him figured out, he did something like drinking an entire barrelful of water to rid himself of the dependence on a barrel.

Not that that hadn't made things amusing.

But perhaps because she had been prepared for anything and had not known what to expect, it had not surprised her when Luffy had let her join without a word of protest. With all six of his comrades shouting in protest behind him, he had simply said, "I can't help that, then. Sure." as if it were the most natural thing in the world to admit one's former enemy into a close circle of friends.

Sanji, the cook, she had always known would pose as no threat. He was protective of ladies to an absurd extent, and she had noticed this quite early on.

Tonytony Chopper, their new doctor, was even less of a threat. He didn't know her, so he could hold no grudge against her.

Usopp the sniper held too little authority among them to do anything unless he had two or three of his crewmembers standing beside him; she never really considered him.

Nami, the navigator, had been problematic. She was the captain's voice of reason, and had the power to get her thrown off the ship if she could present any evidence that Robin was not on their side. But then she had discovered the woman's love of jewels, and her mind had been put to rest.

Roronoa Zoro could not be manipulated, she realized after a time. But by that point, she knew that as long as Luffy gave his consent, she could work her way around all the others. Standing alone, Zoro could not possibly pose too great of a threat to her.

So she had joined, anticipating no more than a little temporary enjoyment. And then the Straw Hat Pirates had begun to turn her world upside down.

For one thing, they all had family and friends that they loved, but had left behind. Robin had never heard any of the other pirates she had worked with utter a word of family or friendship. She had been under the impression that people who went out to sea generally had nothing to leave behind—just as Princess Vivi had remained in Alabasta because she loved her homeland too much to abandon it for piracy.

For another, the Straw Hats treasured each other more than anything else. Never had Robin seen such compassion among unrelated people, pirate or no. They fought and screamed and attacked each other like anything, but in times of crisis, they stuck together as if it were the natural order of things, and didn't even seem to realize how truly amazing their bond was.

Thirdly, the word 'adventure' seemed to crop up at every turn. Whether a horrible monster attacked, the Going Merry was sailing calm waters, they were docking on a perfectly ordinary island, or they were having a theoretically impossible adventure in the sky atop the clouds, it was all an 'adventure'.

Finally, as she discovered in an instance when all but she had lost their memories, _they had no reason but each other to be together_. Monkey D. Luffy had brought together an independent Pirate Hunter who answered to no one, a thief who hated pirates above all other living beings that walked the planet, a cowardly marksman who never would have set out to sea otherwise, a cook who was determined not to leave the man to whom he owed his life, and a reindeer who knew nothing of the sea…and now herself. That was perhaps the first time that the extent of Luffy's devotion to his comrades had struck her. Why, she wondered, had he let her join if every one of these others had gained acceptance only after learning of and fighting with one another?

And then she had found herself melting into their ways. She was one of them, and did not stand apart from the rest of the group as she always had. She had physically felt the shock strike her on the day that she had realized that she loved each and every one of the Straw Hat Pirates.

So when CP9 had come after her, she knew at once that she would not abandon them as she had a countless number of people, illegal organizations, and pirates.

But then the impossible had happened—they had come to save her. And Cutty Flam, supposedly set against her for what she had the potential to do to the world, had helped them. The six other Straw Hats and Franky had put their lives on the line to save her life and free her from the ghosts of her past that continued to haunt her.

When she looked upon her companions now, she saw people completely unlike the ones she had seen when she had been calculating her way into their group.

Usopp was strong-hearted and determined; Zoro was tough on the outside, but was as reliable and loyal as anyone could be; Nami cared for her comrades more than she expressed, and was the only voice of logic that could be found on the ship half the time; Chopper was cute and naïve, but displayed amazing courage when the time called for it; Sanji might spend his time dancing around swooning like an idiot, but his chivalry was actually quite firmly and admirably rooted; their new member, Franky, was soft-hearted and caring, and took things seriously once he had made up his mind.

And then there was Luffy. Robin didn't think she'd ever seen someone she could admire more. His willpower was shocking—he could fight an enemy by sheer will to the extent that he fell and could no longer even move by the time he had defeated him. He rarely asserted his authority as captain, but somehow that gained him even more respect from his crew than anyone could have thought. He cared for his comrades above all else, and Robin sometimes thought that if he had to choose between his comrades or his dream, he would be unable to decide…until the last moment, when he would end up choosing his comrades.

Robin smiled up at the stars.

If there really was anything such as God or Fate or whatever it was called, then she thanked it with all her heart for bringing the Straw Hat Pirates to her.

Unfortunately, in her bliss, she missed the two forms skittering across the deck with mouths and hands full of food.

——————————

Sometimes, Chopper would wake up in the middle of the night from a nightmare. He would dream that he woke up to find that he was still in Drum with Doctorine, and that his joining Luffy and the others and sailing the seas had all been a dream. Not that it was a bad thing to be with Doctorine. It was just…after sailing as a pirate for a while, he had learned so much and seen so much that the very thought that it had all been a simple dream was terrifying.

With the Straw Hats, Chopper had a place. He wasn't an outcast as he had been in his herd or with Dr. Hiruruk or with Doctorine. There was no enemy that looked at him and snickered, "Ooh, look, the blue-nosed reindeer!"

Well, actually, when he thought about it, that would have been marginally better than the, "Ooh, look, it's a blue-nosed raccoon!" that he got every-so-often.

But as a member of the Straw Hat Pirates, he didn't have to sit quietly when someone did that. He had the power to clobber an enemy or shout at an ally for saying such a thing.

And outside of battle, he could laugh like he had never laughed before. He could do the most ridiculous dances, and people would laugh with—not at, with—him.

Being a Straw Hat was better than anything he had ever dreamed of when he had lived in Drum.

Usopp was the best playmate. He knew how to have fun better than anyone (except for Luffy, maybe, but Luffy's idea of 'fun' could be harmful at times), and he told some of the best stories. Even if people _did_ sometimes tell him afterwards that a story wasn't actually true, they were still good stories.

Robin was really nice (sure, he had been terrified of her at first, but everyone else had gone into a panic when she had appeared on the Going Merry—who could blame him?). When Sanji gave her a sweet, she would take a small bite or two, and then give the rest to Chopper when Sanji wasn't looking. If Chopper ever felt like talking about the people he had known and loved in Drum, Robin was always more than willing to listen. When he wanted to go and buy books or talk about some book he had recently read, Robin was the best companion he could have. She loved books as much as, if not more than he did.

Zoro was just plain cool. No matter how strong an enemy they faced, Zoro was never afraid. He would dive head first into danger, and when things didn't go the way he wanted with a scary enemy, he didn't get scared—no, he got annoyed. And at the same time, he was so stupid! He could get himself stuck in chimneys and get lost when there was a person _right in front of him_, leading the way!

Sanji was pretty scary sometimes. In fact, Chopper's first impression of Sanji as That-Really-Crazy-Scary-Evil-Guy-Who-Wants-to-Cook-Me-and-Eat-Me had not quite worn off completely. But that probably had something to do with the fact that he snuck into the kitchen for illegal (by Sanji's rules, and Sanji's rules were law in the kitchen) snacks with Usopp pretty frequently.

Franky was funny. He would cry at the smallest things, and his whole body seemed to be made of weapons. He could fix anything on the ship so that it was good as new—you couldn't even see that it had once been broken! And he was fun to play with, too, when Chopper and Usopp could get him to join them. Oh, and Chopper loved it when he played the guitar! Chopper had never known anyone who could play an instrument before, so he couldn't really say whether Franky was good or bad at it, but he admired it all the same.

Nami was cuddly. Not that she cuddled him on a regular basis—he actually didn't like being cuddled all that much, which was why people like Porche were at the top of his 'I don't like you' list—but sometimes she did, and she was nice and cuddly. But Chopper knew not to cross her too much, because she could be terrifying sometimes.

And then there was Luffy. Luffy was a little bit of everything. He was a great playmate, he was nice, he was cool, Chopper's first impression of him had been That-Other-Really-Crazy-Scary-Evil-Guy-Who-Wants-to-Eat-Me-Raw-and-Probably-Alive, he was funny with his stupidity and rubber body, and he would cuddle sometimes. Not that often, but sometimes. Usually in extremely cold climates. Luffy was just…Luffy.

Chopper was just feeling the beginnings of tears leaking out his eyes when he opened his eyes.

Everything was dark. Why was it so dark? It had been day just a moment ago…

And then he remembered—he was still on the Thousand Sunny. He was a Straw Hat. He had left Drum Island behind.

The sadness that welled up at the thought that he was far from Doctorine was tiny and insignificant in comparison to the delight that he felt to realize that he was still with his comrades.

But he still was feeling sort of shaky…maybe Nami or Luffy wouldn't mind so much if he went over to one of them for a cuddle?

——————————

One thing Sanji absolutely hated about being on the Thousand Sunny (or the Going Merry or any other ship that the Straw Hats should board on which the kitchen was his responsibility) was the kitchen. Not that there was anything wrong with the kitchen. It was a wonderful kitchen, actually, and the fridge even had a lock.

The problem was that a kitchen held food. Food attracted Luffy (and Chopper and Usopp, but they dimmed to pale insignificance in comparison with Luffy in this case) like a magnet. No, scratch that. It attracted him like metal attracted lightning—the situation was potentially harmful.

Of course, what with the lockable refrigerator, Sanji had been under the impression that he would be able to get a decent night's sleep on this ship for a change. He couldn't have been more wrong.

Luffy, as it turned out, went up to the kitchen every night to stare intently at the lock. He never had the nerve to break the door (though whether this was out of fear for Sanji's wrath or out of a sense of self-preservation that sprung from the knowledge that the vast majority of their food could not be preserved if he broke the fridge was unclear), but he stared. He went up every single night without fail took a box of nonperishable food that he _could_ get at, and just stared and stared and _stared_.

It must have been about a week into their first voyage on Sunny that Sanji woke in the middle of the night with a horrible feeling in his gut. His sleep-deprived mind told him to go to sleep, that nothing could be wrong since there were at least two people awake at any time in the night, and no alarm had yet been sounded.

But he had learned to trust his gut, so he sighed and got up, ascending to the deck. The sea was calm and there seemed to be nothing wrong with the sea. He was about to shrug and go back to the men's room to sleep…and then turned to glance suspiciously at the kitchen. Luffy wouldn't dare…would he?

The fact was that he had been receiving reports every morning of how Luffy appeared to be spending five hours every night simply staring at the keyhole of the fridge, but Sanji had waved off such reports. Luffy would not break the lock, and so he would eventually learn not to just sit there and expect the lock to open itself under his stare.

Still, Sanji figured, it couldn't hurt to check.

He opened the door to the kitchen to see the kitchen entirely the same as the previous evening. Well, there were a few missing snacks, but they were deliberately kept out for Luffy, so that was no issue. Even so, just to make sure, Sanji decided to check the fridge.

Horror of horrors, it was _unlocked_.

No! He _couldn't _have left it unlocked! He was never that careless! How had this happened?

Sanji dreaded what he would see with all his heart as he slowly, carefully, cautiously opened the fridge.

He didn't know whether to give a roar of rage or sigh in relief.

The good news was that a whole half of the food that had been in the fridge the evening before was still there. The bad news was that a whole half of the food that had been in the fridge the evening before was now gone.

Sanji opted for the roar of rage. He stormed straight out of the kitchen and glared up at the observation deck.

"That's it, who's on observation duty tonight?" he barked.

When Robin's face peered down at him in surprise, he felt his face go white as he hastily attempted to amend for that, inwardly cursing himself.

"I'm so sorry, Robin-chan! I didn't know it was you—I thought it was Usopp's turn on observation duty tonight…"

"It was," Robin told him. "He decided he wanted sleep tonight, so I offered to trade. Why so angry at this time of night, Sanji?"

Sanji remembered his rage with a start.

"Ah, yes. Robin-chan, you haven't seen anyone leave the kitchen by any chance, have you?"

Robin blinked.

"I'm sorry—I wasn't watching the deck. But I was under the impression that we no longer needed to worry about our food supply?"

"I'm so sorry, Robin-chan!" said a shockingly guilt-ridden, furious Sanji. "But it appears we still do."

And then he was off, in search of the fools that had made him look like an idiot in front of Robin-chan _and _stolen from his kitchen.

"Hey, algae!" he addressed the training swordsman. Not that he would have normally resorted to this, but it was something of an emergency. "You don't know who raided my kitchen, do you?"

He made sure to narrow his eyes to show that he was well aware that it very well could have been Zoro, and hence Zoro was one of the suspects.

Zoro stared at him for a moment, and then pointed the opposite direction before turning away to begin his training again.

Sanji's eyes were narrowed to slits in a flash. The marimo was hiding something—he just knew it. Wait a second…was his jaw moving?

"You got the spoils too, didn't you?" Sanji snapped, throwing a kick at Zoro. Zoro, however, swung around at once to block the kick with one of his weights.

Sanji, who had not been expecting this, wound up with a terribly pained foot. But that was insignificant—Zoro was definitely chewing and now swallowing.

"I know it wasn't you who opened the fridge," Sanji growled. "So who did?"

He would have loved to beat Zoro to within an inch of his life, only he heard footsteps behind him just then. He turned, and…

"No! He saw us! Run!"

Luffy and Usopp—ah. Well then, if they wanted a fight, he was definitely not complaining.

"You come back here, you shitty bastards!"

Unfortunately, he did not catch up in time, and before he turned the crucial corner, he heard a door close. Once he rounded the corner, he was faced with a major issue—which door exactly had they gone through? If he took too much time figuring it out, that would just mean more time to hide for them.

His eyes fell on one door and his eyes narrowed. They wouldn't _dare_ use the girl's room as a hideout, would they?

Best check, anyway.

He opened the door. His jaw dropped to the floor.

What was that _shitty reindeer_ doing in Nami-san's bed? And why was Nami-san _cuddling _him as though he were her favorite pillow?

For a moment, he considered storming into the room, snatching Chopper out of Nami-san's arms, and making him pay. But then he considered how angry Nami-san would be at anyone for waking her up.

Had Chopper been a human, Sanji wouldn't have stood for it. But he was well aware that Chopper was a reindeer, not at all interested in human females that way, so he decided that he would let it slide, if only for the sake of Nami-san's beauty sleep. Not that she needed it at all.

As he closed the door quietly, he shot one last glower Chopper's way. Oh, how that reindeer would pay in the morning.

And then he made a beeline for the men's sleeping quarters.

It actually didn't surprise him too much when he found Usopp and Luffy stuffing the last of their spoils into their mouths.

"Hi."

Usopp and Luffy gave screams of terror. Franky, the only one left in bed in this particular room, shot upright.

"What? What happened?" And then Franky noticed that he seemed to be the last one to wake up. "Did I actually sleep in that late? What time is it?"

Sanji paused his assault on Usopp and Luffy mid-kick to check his watch.

"Five to three in the morning," he replied. And then he was back to attacking, and Luffy and Usopp were back to screaming.

But there wasn't exactly enough space to run at top speed, and Luffy and Usopp were soon subjected to a number of cruel, merciless kicks.

"And why are you assaulting our captain and sniper at three o'clock in the morning?" asked the groggy Franky.

Sanji, who had not yet exhausted his rage, turned on Franky.

"_You!_" he snapped furiously. "You didn't make a decent lock for the fridge! Those two broke into the fridge!"

Which was how, five minutes later, Franky and Sanji both ended up in business mode, inspecting the fridge. It was not until they found a hairpin on the floor, however, that they figured out what must have happened.

"You didn't tell me that anyone picked locks!" Franky snorted.

"How was I supposed to know that Usopp would actually be that desperate for food?" Sanji snapped back.

Sanji sighed. He loved his comrades sometimes, but more often came the time when he wondered why the hell he had decided to board a ship like this one.

——————————

It wasn't as if Usopp had just decided to teach Luffy to pick locks on a whim. Naturally, it was common sense on their ship that one did not attempt to or assist one who was attempting to steal food from the kitchens. Stealing food was a terrible crime on the Thousand Sunny, and every member of the Straw Hat Pirates was well aware of this.

But he was _hungry!_ And Sanji was so unsympathetic to people who got hungry in the middle of the night!

Not that Usopp would have wanted to keep getting up in the middle of the night to feed a hungry captain and whoever else happened to want to eat at irregular intervals in the middle of the night either. But that was why he wasn't the cook and Sanji was.

So when his hunger became particularly unbearable that night, he decided that he would help Luffy break into the refrigerator. He knew that Luffy always got up after everyone else was asleep (the ones who did sleep at night, anyway) and went to the kitchen.

On his night on watch five days before, he had observed Luffy staring at the fridge. In all honesty, it had unnerved him at first. He had come down from the observation deck at regular intervals to see what Luffy was doing, but every time, Luffy was still in the same position with the same look of concentration on his face as he stared at the lock. This went on for five hours straight until Luffy just got up, grabbed a snack, and went back to bed.

He had asked others who had had observation duty since then, and it seemed that Luffy followed that very same pattern every night. Usopp had no idea what to think. If Luffy wanted the food, why didn't he just break the door to get to it?

Perhaps even Luffy knew that the consequences of breaking the fridge would not be worth the snack. There was Sanji's wrath, for one thing, and then there was also the compulsory starving that would come afterwards until they could find an island to restock their supplies.

Usopp still remembered the week before they had reached Alabasta, when they had gone that entire week without any food. While raiding the kitchen and eating every bit of food in sight, including the fishing bait, had seemed like a good idea at the time, he wasn't too eager to repeat the starvation experience that had followed.

But raiding the kitchen with Luffy generally _was_ followed by starvation. So Usopp wondered if he should ask someone else.

Nami was too serious. She'd probably clobber him at the mere _idea_ of him picking the fridge's lock and eating their food supplies.

Zoro might follow if he bribed him with wine, but that was sort of pointless since the vast majority of Zoro's wine stock was outside the fridge and perfectly accessible. Besides, Zoro spent the night training, and didn't take well to being interrupted.

Franky had made that fridge. If he realized that Usopp could pick the lock, he'd probably make some new lock that was picking-proof or something. Not that there was any lock that Usopp couldn't pick. Still, he would rather not make things difficult for himself.

Chopper was a great companion in fridge raiding, but he just didn't know how to be quiet! Besides, by the time Usopp got up for the midnight snack, Chopper was not in the room. Either he was up in the observation deck talking to Robin, or he'd had another nightmare and had gone to cuddle with Nami.

Robin wouldn't object to the fridge raiding, but she wouldn't participate either. She'd just stand back and watch and smile, and that wasn't the sort of companion that Usopp was looking for at the moment.

Sanji was just out of the question. He'd probably be kicked into tomorrow at the mere _thought_ that he might try to pick the fridge's lock and take any of the contents.

That just left Luffy. Luffy didn't know subtlety or silence, but it was the best bet he had. So he had nudged Luffy awake around the time that he usually went up to stare at the lock and whispered his plan to him.

Luffy turned out to be a much better companion than he had anticipated. Apparently, Luffy's staring at the lock for a total of twenty hours over the last four nights had not been for nothing. He could tell Usopp exactly what the lock looked like through the keyhole and where things were jutting out (though his explanations were a bit sketchy and difficult to comprehend at times). It made it significantly easier for Usopp to open the lock with the hairpin.

Furthermore, Luffy seemed to remember the foodless week before Alabasta as well—once Usopp reminded him. He agreed to Usopp's suggestion that they take only half the food in the fridge rather than all of it.

Usopp was quite happy when they finished their fridge raiding. It had been so long since he'd had a proper midnight snack! It was even worth the kicks they received from Sanji afterwards.

The only downside was that Franky found out.

Usopp sighed sadly as he climbed back into bed.

No doubt Franky would have come up with some clever idea by the next day that would keep them all from picking the lock ever again. Maybe it would be something really terrifying, like a gigantic mousetrap or something…

Usopp hoped that they'd just forget. He liked midnight snacks.

——————————

When Nami was woken up in the middle of the night, her reaction really depended on the situation. If it was an emergency or something harmless that hadn't been meant to wake her (and didn't involve any deafening noises) then Nami usually let it slide. Otherwise, the one that had thrown her into that unwillingly waking state would pay dearly—and the Straw Hats all knew it.

So when she found herself half awake in the middle of the night and there was no deafening sound, it took a moment before she realized why she was awake. There was a fluffy little ball of fur that was nudging its way into her arms.

This was no cause for alarm, Nami knew. Chopper was like a little child sometimes—and that was no surprise, since he was still only about five years old, though his reindeer genetics made him age faster than a human—and often had nightmares where he awoke to find that he was no longer with the Straw Hats. After such dreams he always needed some sort of comfort, and that comfort was generally sought in the form of a cuddle.

Nami would have minded if it had been…say…Sanji (none of the others seemed to care much for cuddles, though she had noted that Luffy _did_ cuddle Chopper when he was feeling cold) trying to get cuddles from her. They would have been forcibly thrown out of her room, and she probably would have installed a lock on the door for good measure.

But Chopper was little and furry and cuddly, and like a comfy little pillow that emitted warmth of its own accord. She liked using him as a pillow ('cuddling him' as he put it) once in a while, so she had no objections.

It was nice being on the Thousand Sunny, Nami thought drowsily as she cuddled the warm bundle of fur. She could actually sleep all night through most of the time.

Usopp didn't go around exploding things almost every night anymore, and when he did, it was far enough away that she could sleep through it. (It was on her own request that Usopp held his midnight experiments in the corner of the ship furthest from her.)

And Zoro had received the same request from Nami, that he do his midnight training as far away from her room as he could get. So she didn't have to deal with the grunts and creaking floorboards that were always a result of his waving around absurdly heavy weights.

Sanji was not the only one who delighted in the lockable refrigerator door. Nami no longer had to deal with furious screams and shouts and crashes as people stole from the fridge and Sanji challenged them to duels.

Of course, the lockable refrigerator meant less midnight clamor from Luffy, too. She had heard over and over again that Luffy had been spending five hours every night staring at the lock on the refrigerator, but she had no doubt that he would not be able to pick it even if he tried, and that he would not dare break the fridge's door to get to the food. Not even Luffy couldn't know what the consequences for such an atrocity would be.

Franky was a normal person—well, where his sleeping habits were concerned, anyway. He slept at night and woke up in the morning. Nami had been beginning to think that there were no such people left in the world.

Robin was probably the only one who stayed up all night, and yet caused Nami no trouble. She would sit on deck whether she had observation duty or not and watch the stars. When she was on observation duty, she generally just took a mug of coffee with her. When she was not, she took a mug of coffee and a book. Either way, she was in no way disruptive to Nami's sleep.

And-

Wait. What were all those running footsteps doing on deck? And why were people slamming doors at this time of night? Nami would have opened her eyes to look, but she was feeling rather tired.

And _who in the world_ was opening her door at this time of night? Nami cracked open an eye and saw Sanji gaping at her arms from the doorway. Why was he so-

Oh. Yes. She was cuddling Chopper, wasn't she?

She closed her eyes again, figuring that Sanji was too much of a gentleman to wake her up in the middle of the night just because she was cuddling a fluffy little reindeer. Still, she breathed a sigh of relief when the door closed.

She would have just rolled over to go back to sleep, but then another door slammed open and slammed closed.

Honestly, what _were_ those morons doing at this time of night?

She heard crashes and shouts and screams coming from the boy's room, and would have gotten up to storm over there and snap at them to be quiet if it hadn't all gone quiet after no more than a few crashes.

Nami wanted to go to sleep, but she had a bad feeling about that. Sanji storming around the ship slamming doors and shouting at screaming persons in the boy's room could only mean one thing—some persons had raided the fridge.

Indeed, shortly after that she heard a door open and close again (more calmly this time, though it probably still could be called a slam) and Sanji's and Franky's voices arguing about locks as their footsteps made their way swiftly up the stairs towards the kitchen.

Obviously, Luffy and Usopp had broken into the fridge. It couldn't be Zoro or Robin or Sanji by default, and if she was cuddling Chopper and Sanji wasn't attacking Franky, it could only be Luffy and Usopp.

That would figure, since Usopp, obviously, knew how to pick locks.

Nami groaned in frustration. Was she _ever_ going to get a good night's sleep again?

She opted to pretend that nothing had just happened and go back to sleep. She was tired. She would deal with the suicidal thieving duo in the morning.

——————————

Zoro liked training at night. It wasn't as though he didn't like training in the day—it was just easier to get more training done with less shouting involved at night. Not to say that it was ever nice and quiet at night when one was a member of the Straw Hat Pirates.

Oh, sure, the sleeping people could sleep undisturbed on the Thousand Sunny. The waking people, on the other hand, either had to deal with each other's ruckus or go to the other side of the ship and risk Nami's wrath when she was woken in the middle of the night.

But it was better than it had been on the Going Merry. At least he could now pay attention to his training without worrying about much more than the occasional explosion from Usopp's experiments. He didn't have to look out for a flying Luffy that Sanji kicked (deliberately, he was positive) in his direction for stealing food. Why Sanji wanted to kick Luffy at him when Luffy was the one doing the stealing, not Zoro, he would never know.

Sanji was just weird that way. Sometimes he blamed Zoro for not keeping Luffy in check.

Zoro snorted and gave an even stronger swing of his weights at the mere thought.

Like _anyone_ could keep that rubber ball of undying energy in check. Nami and Usopp clobbered him frequently, Sanji kicked the captain on a regular basis, Robin would restrain him with numerous hands and arms when the occasion demanded, and Zoro and Franky bodily forced him to remain in place when it was absolutely necessary.

And how much of that actually worked when the captain didn't feel he deserved a beating or saw no sense in being held back?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

But he was getting off track. The point was that now that the refrigerator was locked, Luffy could no longer steal food, and hence Zoro no longer had to duck the captain so unjustly kicked his way by the irate cook. That also meant that he didn't have to get distracted from his training by challenging the cook to duels for interrupting his training.

And there was no more Nami screaming at him for making the deck creak with the weight of his weights (honestly, what did she expect him to do? Use less heavy weights? Absurdity!) and interrupting her sleep, or Chopper leaping awake in response to a particularly loud crash (courtesy of Luffy and Sanji) or explosion (courtesy of Usopp) and screaming about an invasion of evil exploding crabs. Or deceptively cute evil bunnies, or whatever he had been dreaming about at the time.

Robin still stayed up all night, reading or drinking coffee or watching the stars or whatever it was she did. Frankly, as it never bothered Zoro in any way, Zoro didn't care what she was doing.

Franky…well, Zoro had no idea what Franky's nighttime habits were. On the Thousand Sunny, Robin, Zoro, and sometimes Usopp were the only ones who didn't sleep properly through the night (and he thought he'd heard something about Luffy staring at the fridge, but why would Luffy do a thing like that? And it wasn't bothering him, so why should he care?), so whether or not he would have increased the clamor that was the midnight hours on the Going Merry, he caused no one any problems and hence caused no clamor.

Yes, that lockable refrigerator was very, very nice indeed. A huge problem-solver.

So why were Luffy and Usopp running away from the kitchen with their hands full of food? Zoro had no idea.

"Zoro, hide us!" Luffy panicked. Zoro paid them no heed…until he noted one particular article of food in Luffy's hand.

"Hey, is that the meat from that huge sea king we killed yesterday?" he asked, and before Luffy had time to protest against it, he had grabbed the meat and stuffed it into his mouth.

Luffy probably normally would have attacked him for stealing his meat, but swift footsteps were approaching, and he appeared to be more intent on staying away from the owner of the footsteps who was, presumably, the cook who would, most certainly, be at least ten times as furious as he was when Luffy stole on normal occasions for getting through that lock.

How _had_ they gotten through that lock, anyway? He hadn't heard any bangs or crashes.

At that moment, however, he decided his best option was to go back to training before the cook realized that he had taken some of the spoils.

Unfortunately, the cook noticed anyway. Fortunately, Sanji spotted the actual thieves as they escaped, and happened to be too intent on trying to catch Luffy and Usopp to kill Zoro for it.

He wondered if the two of them realized that they would probably be safest if they went up to the observation deck to hide with Robin. If they begged, she would (possibly) hide them. And even if she didn't, Sanji wouldn't kick them too hard around her for fear of causing Robin harm.

On the other hand, he might kick them even harder for just being up there with Robin and daring to use her as a shield (since the two of them were so horrible at being subtle).

Zoro shrugged, hearing slamming doors. It didn't matter, he supposed, since they were obviously running into the men's sleeping quarters.

He was entirely unsympathetic to the crashes and screams.

Even so, once he heard Sanji and Franky in discussion in the kitchen, he set down his weights and descended into the men's room with as much casualness as he could feign, where he cowered (no, hid in a very manly fashion) behind furniture with Luffy and Usopp.

Not that he couldn't fight Sanji if he'd wanted. The simple fact of the matter was that Sanji was sure to be far more irate than usual, and Zoro would rather sleep in the shadows than face that ire and, doubtlessly, get kicked a couple dozen times in the face for it.

Because among the Straw Hats, the one in the wrong _never ever_ won a fight.

Whether that had to do with their emotional states or with some higher power had yet to be seen. But again, Zoro didn't really care.

——————————

To Luffy, raiding the fridge was not only something done to satisfy his hunger. It was also a routine that made life much more interesting.

Which was why the lockable refrigerator struck him as rather annoying after a while.

Sanji _never_ forgot to lock the thing. And he carried the key with him at all times.

Nami probably could have stolen the key from him if she'd wanted, but no matter how many times Luffy asked, she glared and sometimes hit him for even _thinking_ about raiding the fridge.

Robin listened when he told her about wanting to get stuff from the fridge, but never actually did anything to help him.

Usopp had looked thoughtful on the one occasion when Luffy had asked for his help, but had not said anything, which Luffy interpreted as an 'I can't help you'.

Chopper probably wouldn't know how, Luffy thought, but he tried asking anyway. Chopper had looked terrified at the mere thought of breaking into the locked fridge. Luffy found this annoying, since Chopper had often joined him on the occasions when he raided the fridge on the Going Merry.

Zoro, of course, was no help. He didn't like them raiding the fridge because it interrupted his training.

Franky had made that lock, so Luffy figured he could break it without breaking the rest of the fridge, but the suggestion had earned him a dose of Franky's Strong Right. Apparently, Franky was no happier at the thought than Sanji, because Sanji gave him a couple kicks that matched the intensity of Franky's attacks.

So Luffy had settled for trying to figure out how to open the lock without the key for himself. He stared at the lock. And he stared and he stared. He stared some more, trying to figure out how it would open.

But in the end, no matter how much he stared, he simply couldn't figure out how to get that stupid lock open.

Needless to say, Luffy found this excruciatingly frustrating.

He loved his comrades, but he really wished they wouldn't lock him away from the food. And why had Usopp and Chopper deserted him? With Usopp's talent for making things and Chopper's smartness, he was sure that they could have pretty easily made another key or something if they'd worked together.

Which was why he was absolutely delighted when Usopp woke him up one night and told him that he would help him open the fridge.

Luffy had thought that they would have to make some clever device or something, but as it turned out, Usopp already had one.

It was a hairpin.

At first, Luffy was baffled. How could a hairpin open a lock? It was such a commonplace object. If hairpins opened locks, why did people get keys at all? Why not just use hairpins? Besides, according to Usopp, _any _lock could be opened with a hairpin. With keys, you needed a separate one for every lock. Wouldn't it be much more convenient to carry a hairpin around than one of those huge rings of lots and lots of keys that some people had, when they couldn't even figure out which key was which?

But then Usopp explained that it took a master to open a lock with a hairpin—it wasn't something that anyone could do.

This disappointed Luffy somewhat. He had been thinking that he would just carry around a hairpin (stolen from Usopp or Nami, whichever proved more convenient at the time—most likely it would be Usopp, though, due to the less painful consequences). That way, whenever he needed to open something, he could just pull out the hairpin, and voila! It would make no difference that he didn't have a key to anything.

Usopp needed him to describe the inside of the lock, though. Luffy figured that that was why it took a master to open a lock with a hairpin. If every key was different, every lock was probably different, and only a master could figure out what to do with the hairpin in different locks.

Luffy sighed contentedly as he drifted off to sleep.

The (rather oversized) bump on his head was extremely painful, but it was well worth the first midnight snack that he'd had in ages.

He drifted off with a contented smile on his face, thinking that maybe he would try opening a lock with a hairpin anyway.

XXXXXXXX

The next night, the atmosphere was thick as molasses.

Well, it was to anyone who noticed. Chopper seemed oblivious in his pain (Sanji had kicked him quite a bit for some reason incomprehensible to Chopper, screaming something or other about 'Nami' and 'snuggling' and 'chest'), which resulted in exhaustion and sleepiness, as did Zoro, who went up to the deck to train as he did every night. Luffy seemed oblivious as well, and drifted off to sleep the moment that his head hit the pillow.

The others were all well aware that this was no ordinary night. The only ones who saw any specific reason for it to be out of the ordinary were Usopp, Sanji, and Franky, but Robin and Nami could sense that something was going to happen.

Nami, however, went to sleep and pretended not to notice. She had a headache from spending all day screaming at Luffy and Usopp (and Zoro, once she learned from Sanji that he had taken some food from Luffy and Usopp) for taking their precious food and causing them potential starvation. She had also stomped and waved her arms at Franky for not making the lock Luffy-and-Usopp proof, at Sanji for undermining Luffy and Usopp's potentially harmful midnight fridge-raiding, and at Robin for failing to notice on time. Sadly, the only one of the latter group who seemed affected by her nagging at all was Franky. Sanji swooned about how she was so beautiful and didn't appear to hear a single word she uttered. Robin listened and then nodded and apologized much too casually for Nami's liking.

Robin decided to take observation duty again, if only because she was curious as to what the three men expected to occur that night. On that particular night, Robin watched less of the stars and the sea and more of the deserted deck (except for the training swordsman, but that was such an ordinary sight that Robin hardly noticed him).

Usopp, Sanji, and Franky could not sleep. All three of them stayed wide awake, pretending to be asleep and staring expectantly at Luffy's sleeping form.

The few hours that passed before Luffy stirred seemed like much, much longer to all three of them, but not one of the three was taken by drowsiness during that time. There was much too much suspense for something as silly as sleep that night.

When Luffy finally _did_ stir, it took all of Usopp's willpower not to jerk with a start. Sanji and Franky's eyes snapped wide open in anticipation, and they had to force themselves to keep them closed. Luffy was dense, but if he noticed them watching him with eyes wide in anticipation then even _he_ was bound to notice that something was off. That was entirely unsuitable for their intentions.

Luffy glanced around at the crew surrounding him, making sure that everyone was asleep. Not that they were (except for Chopper), but he didn't notice. Their eyes were closed and they were quiet and weren't moving, which was good enough for him.

The 'quiet and weren't moving' part actually _did_ make him pause for a moment (weren't they very loud, obnoxious sleepers who generally went to sleep on one side of the room and woke up on the other?), but he shrugged. Everyone on the Thousand Sunny was unpredictable anyway.

He picked up the hairpin that he had stolen from Usopp's stash earlier that day, and bounded up the staircase. As soon as they heard the snap of the hatch closing, Sanji, Usopp, and Franky's eyes were open and staring at the ceiling in anticipation again. Well, Sanji and Franky in anticipation; Usopp in the fear of the unknown.

It was exactly half a minute later, right when Luffy stuck the hairpin into the keyhole on the refrigerator, that a shockingly loud alarm rang out, resounding throughout the ship.

Zoro dropped his weight in shock (which, surprisingly, did no more damage than crushing the grass beneath it). Usopp shot upright—whatever he had been expecting, it hadn't been this. Nami leaped up out of bed, cursing loudly and swearing to castrate whichever moronic retard of the male specimen had installed whatever alarm this was. Chopper shot up a foot into the air, and before he even dropped down again, had started screaming that they were under attack. Sanji and Franky grinned and cheered their invention's success as they ran upstairs to attack Luffy for attempting to get into the refrigerator again. Even Robin gave a small jerk of surprise.

Luffy was attacked by his cook and shipwright. The cook and shipwright were attacked (though not castrated) by the navigator. Chopper and Usopp ran in panicking circles around the men's room, screaming in alarm. Zoro rubbed his temples in irritation, ears still ringing. Robin went back to watching the stars, listening to the commotion below.

And so the Thousand Sunny said goodbye to nights of sleep and days of (relative) quiet. As it turned out, the alarm that Sanji and Franky had installed went off when _anything_ was stuck into the lock—including the key. So Sanji was under a death threat to extract whatever he had to get from the refrigerator in one go for each meal, as everyone had to deal with two alarms every time he opened the fridge once.

Even worse was that Luffy did not give up attempting to pick the lock quickly enough to get the food before his pursuers came up and caught him—a feat in which he was not successful.

So it was that the Straw Hats learned to live with it, and all but Sanji (and Luffy, to whom the alarm meant food) learned sleep through the alarm. The downside of this was that very little could wake anyone anymore. They would sleep right through the ringing of the loudest alarm clocks (which were quieter than the fridge alarm).

And while Nami, Zoro, Chopper, and Usopp pretended to hate Sanji and Franky for installing the alarm, and Luffy for making it go off so often in the middle of the night, and Sanji pretended to hate Luffy for never giving up despite the alarm, they all knew at the back of their minds that they wouldn't have it any other way. The craziness on their ship was what made them the Straw Hat Pirates, after all.

Gol D. Roger was a great man with many famous quotes. One of his most famous quotes is this: "Will passed on; the passage of ages; people's dreams: these are things that cannot be stopped. As long as people continue to seek freedom's answer, these will never cease!"

But there was one thing that would never cease that he left out. Perhaps he deliberately left this out because he knew that it would be incomprehensible to most pirates whose aim was to plunder, pillage, and be as strong as possible, discarding useless crew for more useful crew.

The bond of true comrades.

As each and every one of the Straw Hats knew well, though they never said, this was something that would never cease.

_**Author's Notes:**__ And so ends Will Passed On. As I'm sure is pretty obvious, I just took Gol D. Roger's quote and stuck titles to stories in order. I made a few twists to the wording of different parts, though, to suit the story better._

_I wanted something special for this final story, and I thought I'd do a reflection on the Straw Hats on each other, first focusing on how they acted like they thought of each other, and then having disaster hit them and making them display the fact that they actually care for each other more than anything else. Then I started writing it, and it all turned upside down, slowly turning into more of an everyday incident. But I decided that focusing on an everyday occurrence had its own sort of charm…and so here this is. If it weren't part of Will Passed On, I probably would have called it something like The Unlockable Refrigerator or something._

_And about Luffy's staring at the fridge—that, actually, isn't as mature an action as you might think. Back when one of my younger sisters was two-years-old, she used to have this fetish for sticking crayons into the VCR and breaking it. So our mother bought a VCR cabinet and these child-proof locks for it. My sister would sit there for hours on end, just staring at the lock. Within a week, she'd have deduced how it opened and gone back to stuffing the VCR with crayons. Yep, beware the power of little children._

_I hope you liked it, and if you got this far, thanks for reading it all!_


End file.
